A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

BY 
GAMALIEL  BRADFORD 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

The  Riverside  Press  Cambridge 
1920 


COPYRIGHT,   J9?0f  BY  GAMALIEL  BRADFORD 
'        "  AtL'RIGHTS  RESERVED 


TO   HER 
WHOSE   SPIRIT 

IS  A 
FOUNTAIN   OF   PURE  JOY 


938025 


"  Cette  vie,  Fai-je  vecue,  fai-je  revee  ?  ' 

Singer  of  Yesterday. 

'  Si  la  vie  rfest  qtfun  reve,  ilfaut  la  rever  belle" 

Singer  of  To-day. 


CONTENTS 

BOOK      I.    THEODORA  1 

BOOK     II.    MORGAN  41 

BOOK  III.    AURELIA  8O 

BOOK    IV.    CECILIA  HO 

BOOK     V.    PETER  SCRIMP  13$ 

BOOK   VI.    PERCIVAL  173 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

BOOK  I 
THEODORA 


MISS  THEODORA  PERKINS  was  unwed 
At  thirty-five,  yet  delicately  charming. 
An  idle  and  bewitching  life  she  led, 

And  thought  love's  snares  perhaps  somewhat  alarming. 
In  earlier  days  she  had  been  city-bred, 

Then  bought  a  country  place,  and  played  at  farming, 
Had  hens  and  cows,  but  did  not  milk,  herself, 
Nor  touch  the  polished  pans  upon  the  shelf. 

II 

Her  mother  had  been  fair,  her  father  wealthy. 

She  had  the  grace  of  one,  the  other's  riches, 
Was  always  merry,  being  always  healthy, 

Had  maids  to  take  all  necessary  stitches. 
You  wonder  love,  with  his  approaches  stealthy 

Had  never  touched  her  heart.  Perhaps  its  niches 
Were  filled  with  dreams  beyond  his  craft  perfidious. 
Surely  she  had  the  right  to  be  fastidious. 

1 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

III 

At  any  rate,  single  she  was,  and  seemed 
1  o  the  mahcious  even  quite  contented 
Her  eyes  were  brown,  and  still  with  laughter  gleamed. 

Co^  t        W3S     °Wn>  'nd  n°thinS  >'et  in™*d 
Could  keep  its  curls  in  order,  when  they  gleamed, 

.      .  Jjke  brooks  m  sunshine.  Magdalen,  repented, 
War)  not  a  rounder,  more  enchanting  figure, 
Although  each  year  it  grew  a  trifle  bigger. 

IV 

A  lady  of  laughter  was  she,  all  alone. 

She  laughed  at  pleasant  thoughts  and  sunny  fancies, 
She  laughed  from  cheerfulness  when  cause  wal  none, 

Also  when  others  laughed.  She  went  to  dances 
As  long  as  sweet  and  twenty  should  have  gone 

And  after  gravity  made  slow  advances, 
She  danced  with  others'  mirth,  made  fa    . 

Happy  m  company,  content  in  quiet. 


V 


She  had  a  charming  house,  which  matched  her  heart 
A  quamt  old  house  as  sunny  as  her  laughter, 

Full  of  nch,  pleasant  things  in  every  part 
Supremely  comfortable  from  sill  to  rafter- 

Rugs  p,ctures,  books,  trifles  of  grace  and  art, 
I  all  clocks  that  gently  ticked  of  the  hereafter  — 

A  sweet  abode,  and  every  object  wore  a 

Suggestion  of  its  mistress,  Theodora. 


2 


THEODORA 
VI 

The  house  was  set  upon  a  little  hill, 

And  at  one  side  a  turfy  lawn  descended, 

Where  ancient  oaks,  disposed  with  cunning  skill, 
Made  lights  and  shadows  beautifully  blended. 

Behind  were  gardens,  where  you  drank  your  fill 
Of  seasonable  blooms  now  nearly  ended ; 

For  autumn,  with  its  riotous  intrusion, 

Began  to  blight  their  opulent  profusion. 

VII 

Here,  on  a  balmy  morning  of  September, 

Miss  Theodora  early  came  to  view 
The  charm  of  her  possessions,  to  remember 

Past  Summer's  rich  luxuriance  and  renew 
Its  wealth  of  joy,  ere  blasts  like  bleak  November 

Brought  indoor  pleasures.  In  her  arbor  new 
She  found  fast  sleeping,  mid  disordered  glory 
Of  golden  locks,  the  hero  of  our  story. 

VIII 

He  seemed  a  faun,  a  creature  of  the  wood, 

Red-capped,  short-coated,  with  his  tie  a-streaming, 

A  chick  of  twenty,  just  escaped  the  brood, 

There  on  Miss  Perkins's  bench  quietly  dreaming. 

Transfixed  with  wonder,  even  as  she  stood, 
At  first  Miss  Theodora  felt  like  screaming; 

But  brief  reflection  soon  sufficed  to  change  her 

Fear  to  a  smile,  as  she  beheld  the  stranger. 
3 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 


IX 


Some  such  adventure  she  had  long  been  wanting, 
lo  spice  her  happiness  in  its  monotony, 

An  occupation  even  more  enchanting 
Than  poetry  diversified  with  botany 

A  charm,  a  grace,  a  magic  fair  and  haunting. 
Now  in  all  nature  surely  there  was  not  any 

More  fair,  more  haunting  to  be  found  or  given 

than  this  bright  apparition  dropped  from  heaven 


X 


Therefore  she  laughed  aloud.  On  this  her  guest 
Sat  up  and  rubbed  his  eyes  and  yawned  a  bit 

Then  gravely  looked  at  her.  "You  break  my  rest  » 
He  said.  She  laughed  again.  Then,  thinking  it 

Perhaps  not  quite  polite,  she  thus  addressed 
The  stranger.  "Pray,  excuse  me.  But  you  sit 

As  calmly  in  my  arbor  as  if  I, 

Not  you,  had  crept  into  it  on  the  sly." 


XI 


"Surely,"  he  said,  "you  cannot  be  so  narrow 

As  to  suppose  your  premises  aren't  free  ? 
The  sun  comes  in,  with  many  a  shining  arrow, 

And  makes  himself  at  home  as  I  should  be 
You  would  not  think  of  shutting  out  a  sparrow: 

Inen  by  what  logic  can  you  shut  out  me? » 
Once  more  she  laughed  and  this  time  he  laughed  too, 
As  affably  as  any  god  might  do. 


4 


THEODORA 

XII 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  she  asked.  He  answered,  "  Smith." 
"  A  god  by  any  other  name,"  thought  she : 

"  Yet,  after  all,  Smith  makes  good  rhyme  to  myth, 
And  names  are  nothing  to  a  deity." 

He  interrupted  her  reflections  with, 

u  I  'm  ready  for  my  breakfast  now,  you  see." 

Breakfast !  Oh,  horrors !  Hers  was  on  the  table. 

But  ask  a  stranger  in !  She  was  not  able. 

XIII 

The  maids  would  stare,  their  looks  interrogate, 
And  the  whole  town  would  know  within  an  hour 

That  she  had  picked  and  laid  beside  her  plate 
This  charming  but  inexplicable  flower. 

She  sought  a  moment  to  deliberate 
By  asking  any  question  in  her  power. 

"  Your  other  name  I  should  be  glad  to  know." 

"Certainly,  Percival,"  he  answered.  "Oh, 

XIV 

4t  I  know  you  now.  The  son  of  Simon  ?  "  "  Yes, 
Of  Simon  Peter  Smith.  I  hope  your  knowing 

Inclines  you  more  to  pity  my  distress." 

She  laughed  as  always,  in  her  laughter  showing 

Small  teeth  of  commendable  pearliness, 

Then  led  him  to  the  house,  and  told  him,  going, 

His  mother  had  been  one  among  her  cousins, 

Of  whom  she  reckoned  up  unnumbered  dozens. 

5 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XV 

"  You  knew  my  mother  ?  What  might  be  your  name  ?  " 
She  told  him.  "  Never  heard  of  you,"  he  said. 

u  That 's  natural.  Although  your  mother  came 
From  near  my  home,  she  went  away  to  wed 

When  I  was  but  a  child.  Within  the  same 

Year  you  were  born,  I  think,  and  she  was  dead. 

But  tell  me,  why,  in  other  folks'  pavilions, 

You  steal  a  nap,  with  all  your  father's  millions?" 

XVI 

"  My  father's  millions  ?  I  will  tell  you  later. 

Can't  we  have  breakfast  now  ?  "  Again  she  laughed, 
Then  led  him  in  and  did  her  best  to  cater 

To  a  surprising  appetite.  He  quaffed 
Coffee  unlimited,  and  as  gayly  ate  her 

Delicious  fruit,  biscuit,  and  eggs,  then  quaffed 
Once  more.  Her  cousin,  for  an  early  call, 
She  told  the  maids,  who  wondered  at  it  all. 

XVII 

And  well  they  might,  that  such  an  apparition, 

Red-capped  and  golden-curled,  should  thus  appear 

Out  of  the  sky,  and  give  an  exhibition 
Of  appetite  to  make  the  timid  fear. 

A  cousin  perishing  of  inanition 

Did  not  go  with  Miss  Perkins,  that  was  clear. 

But  she  explained  he  'd  never  had  a  mother, 

A  theme  for  kitchen  pity  like  no  other. 

6 


THEODORA 
XVIII 

He  satisfied  his  hunger  and  his  thirst 

At  length.  Said  she,  "  Come,  tell  me  all  your  story." 
Her  curiosity,  by  waiting  nursed, 

Was  eager  as  his  appetite.  The  glory 
Of  rich  September's  sun,  now  wide  dispersed 

On  leaf,  and  vine,  and  beard  of  corn  grown  hoary, 
Lured  them  once  more  into  the  arbor,  where 
He  told  his  tale  to  recompense  her  care. 

XIX 

"  You  want  to  hear  my  story  ?  It  is  plain. 

At  least,  it  seems  to  me  so.  I  'm  a  prophet." 
At  which  Miss  Theodora  tried  in  vain 

To  check  her  laughter.  u  Oh,  you  need  not  scoff  at 
My  mission.  I  'm  not  trying  to  restrain 

Poor  souls  from  wandering  down  the  way  to  Tophet. 
My  calling  simply  is  to  make  it  clear, 
Such  as  we  are,  we  may  be  happy  here. 

XX 

"  The  world  is  full  of  shadows,  well  I  know  : 
The  toothache,  and  the  heartache,  little  evils, 

Great,  if  you  like  and  if  you  make  them  so. 
But  man's  worst  enemies  are  surely  devils 

Of  his  own  breed,  imaginary  woe, 

When  will,  ungoverned,  leads  fantastic  revels. 

Now  from  these  ills  I  aim  to  set  men  free." 

"  How  did  you  get  such  an  idea  ?  "  said  she. 

7 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
XXI 

"  I  see  you  want  the  whole  from  the  beginning. 

My  father  is  the  whole,  or  he  and  I. 
My  mother,  I  have  heard,  was  fair  and  winning, 

As  full  of  sunshine  as  an  April  sky, 
Thought  much  mere  merriment  that  he  thought  sinning. 

It  was  a  great  mistake  for  her  to  die. 
But  die  she  did,  and  left  my  father  me, 
As  like  her,  I  should  judge,  as  like  could  be. 

XXII 

"  As  for  my  father,  he  is  good  but  serious, 
Much  more  than  serious,  severe,  austere, 

Condemning  idle  mirth  as  deleterious, 
And  toiling  at  his  desk  the  livelong  year. 

He  rules  his  servants  with  a  will  imperious, 
Filling  the  worst  and  best  alike  with  fear; 

His  business  wealth,  religion  his  distraction, 

And  neither  gives  him  any  satisfaction. 

XXIII 

"  A  thin,  tall  man,  with  dark  and  eager  eyes, 
Forever  fixed  on  something  of  to-morrow, 

A  man  of  wisdom,  if  much  care  makes  wise, 
A  man  of  gravity  akin  to  sorrow, 

A  man  whom  no  disaster  can  surprise, 

A  man  determined  not  to  lend  nor  borrow, 

Not  money,  not  sweet  friendship,  not  delight, 

Who  lives  enshrouded  in  his  own  thoughts'  night." 

8 


THEODORA - 

XXIV 

He  spoke  all  this  with  animated  ease, 

His  cap  pushed  back,  his  golden  hair  wind-stirred. 
The  absence  of  all  conscious  aim  to  please 

Made  pleasant  every  lightly  uttered  word. 
Beneath  the  richly  laden  orchard  trees 

He  seemed  to  Theodora  like  some  bird, 
Singing  an  autumn  song  of  lovely  things 
And  mixing  sunshine  in  its  murmurings. 

XXV 

"  Go  on,"  she  said.  "  I  will  go  on,"  said  he. 

"  It  sounds  as  if  I  did  not  love  my  father. 
Nevertheless,  I  do,  and  he  loves  me. 

He  loved  my  mother  madly,  as  I  gather, 
At  least  she  held  him  by  a  witchery 

His  sober  thought  did  not  approve,  say,  rather, 
A  worldly  levity,  as  he  would  name  it. 
Named  as  you  please,  he  never  overcame  it. 

XXVI 

"  Before  she  died,  his  life  was  grave,  to  keep 
Her  merriment  within  due  moderation. 

But  she  could  put  his  gravity  to  sleep 
With  all  joy's  exquisite  solicitation, 

Could  sometimes  make  even  his  heart  o'er-leap 
The  barriers  of  his  starched  denomination. 

After  her  death,  he  never  smiled  at  all, 

Stern  as  a  winter  cloud,  or  churchyard  wall. 
9 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
XXVII 

"  His  life  was  full  of  God  and  making  money. 

Not  that  he  greatly  cares  for  one  or  the  other. 
But  he  must  still  be  doing.   Pastimes  sunny 

And  idle  fancies  chasing  one  another, 
Each  richer  than  the  last  with  pleasure's  honey, 

Delight  him  not  at  all.  The  passionate  smother 
Of  will  and  lust  and  thought  he  overcomes 
By  saying  endless  prayers  and  doing  sums. 

XXVIII 

"  Me  he  regards  as  something  quite  profane, 
Half  loves  me  as  his  child  and  half  abhors. 

At  first,  with  all  his  might,  he  tried  to  train 
My  wayward  will  to  what  his  soul  adores, 

Dreamed  I  would  toil,  like  him,  for  power  by  gain, 
Or  shepherd  souls  to  Christ  in  countless  scores. 

But  when  he  found  I  drank  of  neither  cup, 

Even  his  stern  patience  sighed  and  gave  it  up. 

XXIX 

u  And  then  he  hired  tutors  who  should  teach 
The  common  rudiments  of  grace  and  virtue. 

First  came  a  minister  who  could  not  preach, 
His  voice  so  harsh  it  positively  hurt  you. 

His  heart  was  little  softer  than  his  speech. 
A  learned  man,  in  Latin  so  expert  you 

Wished  he  had  been  a  Roman  born.  I  spent 

Two  years  of  anguish  with  him.  Then  he  went. 
10 


THEODORA 
XXX 

"  The  second  was  quite  different,  strong,  athletic, 
Merry  at  heart  and  young.  Why  he  was  chosen, 

Unless  because  I  hated  the  ascetic, 

I  never  could  make  out.  My  soul,  long  frozen, 

Melted  and  danced  with  ardor  peripatetic, 
Sang  dainty  songs  and  catches  by  the  dozen ; 

You  learnedtfrom  him  as  blackbird  learns  to  whistle. 

Kissing  the  chambermaid  caused  his  dismissal." 

XXXI 

"Oh!  "  said  Miss  Perkins.  Percival  echoed,  "Oh! 

She  was  a  charming  chambermaid.  In  fact, 
I  kissed  her  several  times  myself,  although 

The  fancy  was  more  charming  than  the  act. 
Under  this  shower  of  kisses  she  had  to  go. 

And  after  that  the  house  was  tightly  packed 
With  tresses  gray,  wry  neck,  or  twisted  shoulder: 
The  pole  itself  could  hardly  have  been  colder." 

XXXII 

/ 

"  Why  weren't  you  sent  to  school  ?  "  Miss  Perkins  asked. 

"  School  ?  "  was  the  answer.  "  Why,  my  father  dreaded 
That  all  those  fancies  wild  my  mother  masked 

Under  the  fascinating  grace  he  wedded 
Would  flash  into  the  light,  if  I  were  tasked 

Among  the  worldly  and  the  base,  unsteadied 
By  his  directing  hand.  Quite  visionary 
My  father  is."  "Yes,"  said  Miss  Perkins.  "Very." 

11 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
XXXIII 

"  He's  gone  abroad  just  now.  When  he  comes  back, 
He  says  that  he  '11  complete  my  education. 

He  need  n't.  I  am  twenty  and  I  lack 
No  sort  of  necessary  information. 

I  Ve  read  great  poets  —  have  followed  in  their  track  • 
Read  naughty  novels  on  the  sex  relation. 

I  understand  the  modern  world  quite  well. 

It 's  much  more  curious  than  heaven  or  hell. 

XXXIV 

"  I  play  sonatas  on  the  violin, 

And  I  have  read  a  good  deal  of  theology, 
Know  Nietzsche  had  a  great  contempt  for  sin, 

And  thought  that  Christians  needed  an  apology. 
I  quite  agree  with  him.  The  world  has  been 

Saddened  too  long  by  Hebrew  teleology, 
Enthralled  too  long  by  dim,  phantasmal  fears, 
Instead  of  dancing  with  the  dancing  years." 

XXXV 

Here  he  sat  up,  his  round  blue  eyes  aglow, 
Like  heaven  on  a  sunny  day  in  spring. 

Was  he,  poor  Theodora  wished  to  know, 
A  lunatic  or  an  inspired  thing  ? 

"  Listen,"  he  said,  "  nine-tenths  of  all  our  woe 
Lies  in  our  will.  We  make  our  suffering. 

We  turn  our  eyes  away  from  joy's  pure  star. 

We  think  we  are  unhappy  and  we  are. 
12 


THEODORA 
XXXVI 

u  Oh,  I  'm  no  Christian  Scientist.  Disease 

And  agony  and  anguish  I  admit. 
But  these  come  seldom.  Yes,  and  even  these 

May  be  made  less.  By  disregarding  it 
Pain  may  be  metamorphosed  into  ease." 

"  Have  you  had  any  ?  "   "  No ;  but  do  not  sit 
There  interjecting  arguments  ad  hominem, 
Whose  sole  significance  is,  1 1  a  woman  am.' ' 

XXXVII 

"  And  so  your  object  is  to  trumpet  joy  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  he  said.  "  I  've  entertained  the  notion 

Some  months;  but  I  knew  well  it  would  annoy 
My  father ;  so  I  let  him  cross  the  ocean. 

I  then  determined  that  I  might  employ 

His  absence,  and  might  put  my  scheme  in  motion. 

Now  I've  set  out,  like  that  old  Spanish  crank.  —  Oh 

Miss  Theodora,  won't  you  be  my  Sancho  ? 

XXXVIII 

"  It  seems  to  me  you're  just  the  very  creature." 
She  laughed.  "Do  you  call  that  a  compliment?  " 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  "  you  have  n't  Sancho's  feature. 
But  you  are  surely  one  that  heaven  sent 

To  be  a  merry  miracle  of  nature. 

Come,  come !  We  two  will  start  together,  bent 

To  teach  the  whole  wide  world  that  it  might  be 

Filled  full  of  joy  and  laughter,  even  as  we." 
13 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
XXXIX 

She  laughed  again.  "  Tell  me  your  tale,"  she  said. 

"  You  Ve  been  a  prophet  for  an  autumn  day. 
How  have  you  fared  ?  "  The  prophet's  golden  head 

Bent  forward,  rather  more  perplexed  than  gay. 
"  How  have  I  fared  ?  The  jolly  life  I  Ve  led 

Would  make  Don  Quixote  slink  with  shame  away. 
I  Ve  taught  a  prayer  meeting  the  path  to  take 
And  I  have  had  a  ducking  in  a  lake." 

XL 

"Oh !  "  said  Miss  Theodora.  "You  shall  hear. 

I  left  my  father's  house  two  days  ago." 
"  Just  as  you  are  ?  "  said  she.  "  As  I  sit  here." 

"  With  money  ?  "  said  she.  "  Money  ?  "  he  answered.  "  No. 
What  should  I  do  with  money  ?  The  sky  was  clear. 

The  soft,  serene  south  wind  began  to  blow. 
I  danced  along  the  highway,  like  a  leaf, 
Tossed  by  the  breeze,  indifferent  to  grief. 

XLI 

"  I  wandered  all  the  pleasant  afternoon, 

Without  a  thought  of  any  destination. 
For  surely  nature  needs  no  better  boon 

Than  unpremeditated  divagation. 
But  when  at  last  the  full,  great  harvest  moon 

Rolled  up  the  azure  east,  I  faced  starvation. 
Just  then  I  found  a  cyclist  on  a  bank, 
Eating  a  lunch.  With  him  I  ate  and  drank. 

14 


THEODORA 

XLII 

"  He  was  a  curious  creature,  dark  and  thin, 

Forever  arguing.  If  you  argued  too, 
His  jaws  shut  like  a  trap,  and  what  had  been 

Your  dearest  argument  was  bitten  through. 
He  seemed  a  man  that  would  believe  in  sin. 

I  tried  to  demonstrate  the  obvious  view, 
That  if  we  simply  would,  we  might  be  happy. 
He  answered  in  words  positively  snappy. 

XLIII 

" 4  Young  man,  go  home,  and  learn  your  A,  B,  C. 

Do  you  think  what  God  botched  you  might  have  mended  ? 
That  chits  like  you  can  make  a  heaven  be 

Where  hell  was  quite  explicitly  intended  ? ' 
I  tried  to  demonstrate  most  courteously, 

What  man  began  by  man  might  well  be  ended. 
He  got  upon  his  cycle  and  rode  off. 
The  sputtering  cycle  drowned  the  sputtering  scoff. 

XLIV 

"  I  strolled  along  beneath  the  moonshine  merry, 
Now  changing  laughter  with  a  lightfoot  maid, 

Now  gazing  at  a  wry  form  fit  to  bury, 

Whose  thoughts,  I  knew,  would  make  the  moon  afraid. 

I  stopped  to  ponder  in  a  cemetery, 

Beneath  a  weeping  willow's  pleasant  shade, 

When  from  a  church  arose  the  choral  din. 

4  Ah,  ha ! '  I  said.  '  Come,  let  us  wander  in.' 

15 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
XLV 

"  I  wandered  in.  OhT  sweet  Miss  Theodora, 

You  never  saw  so  horrible  a  place. 
Some  thirty  human  wrecks  were  posed  before  a 

Grim,  antiquated  ruin  of  a  face; 
And  not  a  single  countenance  but  wore  a 

Look  of  complete  despair,  as  if  the  race, 
Not  only  human,  but  fur,  fin,  and  feather, 
Were  all  irrevocably  damned  together. 

XLVI 

"  I  sat.  A  chalky  nondescript  was  praying 
And  maundering  on  about  the  great  facility 

With  which  the  Lord  saves  wayward  sheep  from  straying. 
He  must  have  seen  me.  The  bare  possibility 

Of  being  besmirched  by  such  benign  inveighing 
Was  quite  too  much  for  my  minute  humility. 

It  stung  me  from  my  seat.  I  strode  right  front 

And  broke  into  the  prayer  after  my  wont. 

XLVII 

4  You  fools,'  I  said,  '  who  mangle  and  distort 

The  shreds  and  scraps  of  wisdom  oriental 
Into  a  recipe  to  spoil  the  sport 

Of  those  who  find  our  sorrow  accidental 
And  life  an  ecstasy,  however  short. 

You  fools,  whose  agency  is  instrumental 
In  making  this  world  serve  extremely  well 
As  a  condensed  epitome  of  hell ! ' 

16 


THEODORA 
XLVIII 

"  I  could  have  gone  on.  I  was  in  the  vein. 

But  here  the  tempest  of  their  fury  burst. 
You  should  have  seen  the  faces :  wrath  and  pain, 

Wide  mouths  that  theologically  cursed, 
Hands  clutched,  eyes  staring.  I  could  not  refrain 

From  quite  discourteous  laughter.  But  the  worst 
Was  a  young  girl  I  had  not  seen  before, 
Delightful  through  the  horror  that  she  wore. 

XLIX 

"  Then  they  laid  hands  on  me,  a  burly  sinner 

And  the  gaunt  saint  whose  prayer  I  broke  in  two. 

If  it  had  been  a  little  nearer  dinner, 

I  might  have  given  them  both  enough  to  do. 

But  I  was  hollow  and  convulsed  with  inner 

Amusement.  Therefore  they  propelled  me  through 

The  chapel  door,  rejoicing  in  my  mind 

At  all  the  chaos  I  had  left  behind. 

L 

"  Miss  Theodora,  what  a  world  it  is, 

Where  men  augment  the  little  ills  they  suffer 

By  vast  imaginary  miseries, 

Making  their  daily  pathway  so  much  rougher, 

And  blaming  then  malicious  destinies. 

Surely  the  hide  of  Christians  must  be  tougher 

Than  ordinary  men's  to  stand  the  beating 

It  gets  in  such  a  place  as  that  prayer-meeting. 

17 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
LI 

"  But  I  forgot  it  and  I  strolled  along. 

Then  I  grew  sleepy  and  of  course  I  slept." 
"  Oh,"  said  Miss  Theodora,  "  that  was  wrong." 

He  answered,  laughing  loud,  u  Should  I  have  kept 
Myself  awake  by  tickling  or  by  song  ? 

I  always  sleep  outdoors.  I  simply  crept 
Into  the  sheltered  corner  of  a  fence, 
Bed  good  enough  for  any  man  of  sense." 

LII 

Miss  Theodora  sighed.  Her  brain  was  burning 
With  this  peculiar  creature  and  his  fancies. 

It  almost  seemed  as  if  she  were  returning 

To  childhood  days  and  things  of  dream  romances. 

"  Go  on,"  she  begged,  "  go  on."  No  way  discerning 
Her  eagerness,  the  knight  of  golden  chances 

Went  on  recounting  in  like  airy  mode 

The  fates  that  had  befallen  his  wandering  road. 

LIII 

"  I  woke  at  dawn.  The  stars  were  disappearing, 

And  pink,  barred  clouds  flamed  in  the  brightening  east. 

The  hush  of  heaven  gradually  clearing 
Would  rouse  devotion  even  in  a  priest. 

But  I  confess  that  daylight's  rapid  nearing 
Made  breakfast  seem  desirable  at  least. 

I  rose  and  shook  myself  and  looked  around 

For  any  sign  of  hospitable  ground. 

18 


THEODORA 

LIV 

"I  saw  a  mansion  quite  convenient  by, 

Which  seemed  well  nourished  and  restorative. 

I  tried  it,  but  a  dog  barked  horribly. 
I  came  to  get  a  breakfast,  not  to  give; 

And  therefore  I  departed  speedily. 
Why  is  that  race  of  Cerberus  let  live 

To  frighten  honest  people  who  mean  well 

With  foretaste  of  the  bellowings  of  hell  ? 

LV 

"  I  tried  another  house,  less  Cerberized. 

A  chambermaid  like  that  I  kissed,  quite  pretty, 
Opened  the  door.  '  Breakfast  ? '  I  asked.  Surprised, 

She  looked  at  me  with  all  a  sister's  pity. 
*  Try  the  back  door,'  she  doubtfully  advised. 

4  So  these,'  I  thought,  *  are  manners  of  the  city,' 
But  did  as  she  suggested,  back  or  front, 
Was  quite  indifferent  to  my  breakfast  hunt. 

LVI 

"  At  the  back  door  a  matron  fiery,  stout, 

All  redolent  of  luscious  kitchen  savor, 
Angrily  first  gave  me  the  right-about ; 

But  something  in  my  aspect  won  her  favor. 
She  murmured,  4  Does  your  mother  know  you  're  out  ?  ' 

'My  mother  's  dead.'  At  that  reply  she  gave  her 
Best  titbits  and  assisted  my  digestion 
With  every  sort  of  variegated  question. 

19 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
.     LVII 

44  4 1  'm  out  to  renovate  mankind,'  said  I. 

4  Go  home,'  said  she,  '  and  suck  your  nursing-bottle.' 
4 1  can't,  I  have  a  work  to  do,'  said  I. 

4  Glory ! '  said  she,  as  sage  as  Aristotle, 
*  You  work  ! '  And  then  she  fed  me  custard  pie, 

Entreated  me  maternally  to  throttle 
My  notions,  put  a  package  in  my  hand  which 
Contained  an  egg,  an  apple,  and  a  sandwich. 

LVIII 

44 1  thanked  her,  took  the  package,  and  fared  on. 

The  morning  was  as  merry  as  the  night. 
Sorrow  or  care  on  earth  I  had  not  one, 

As  joyous  as  the  swallow  in  its  flight. 
I  reveled  in  the  splendor  of  the  sun, 

In  every  casual  human  sound  or  sight. 
Oh,  fools,  I  said,  how  can  you  make  derision 
Of  life's  unlimited,  bewitching  vision  ? 

LIX 

44 1  wandered  all  the  bright  forenoon,  now  chatting 
With  men  who  heard  my  talk  with  curiosity, 

Or  suave  old  ladies,  much  inclined  to  patting 
My  head  and  of  an  infinite  verbosity. 

One  fellow  sang,  most  hideously  flatting. 
I  kindly  set  him  right.   His  loud  ferocity 

Would  have  disturbed  a  creature  less  contented. 

I  smiled,  and  he  immediately  repented. 

20 


THEODORA 
LX 

"At  length  I  turned  into  a  pleasant  field, 
Where  lay  a  small  pond  in  a  grassy  hollow, 

By  little  clumps  of  birches  half-concealed, 

The  dancing  waters  whipped  by  many  a  swallow. 

When  I  approached  the  spot,  I  saw  revealed 
An  ugly  sight,  with  uglier  to  follow  : 

A  crowd  of  ruffians  busily  tormenting 

A  half-starved  dog  in  fury  unrelenting. 

LXI 

"  A  noisy,  dirty,  riotous  lot  they  were, 

Their  imprecations  cracked  the  Sabbath  peace. 

The  dog  was  a  forlorn,  misshapen  cur, 
Without  the  spirit  to  fight  for  his  release. 

They  tied  a  tin  can  round  his  neck,  to  stir 
Their  quite  inhuman  mirth,  and  to  increase 

It  further,  when  the  dog  did  not  respond, 

Some  one  proposed  to  throw  him  in  the  pond. 

LXI  I 

"  This  hit  their  mood  exactly.  A  great  lout 

Seized  the  poor  creature  by  his  four  legs.  Splash ! 

He  plumped  into  the  water  five  yards  out. 

He  whined  and  howled,  as  if  he  felt  the  lash, 

And  then  he  quickly  turned  himself  about 

And  swam  for  shore  again.  The  dissonant  crash 

Of  their  gross  laughter  echoed  wide,  and  merriment 

Distinctly  urged  repeating  the  experiment. 
21 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
LXIII 

"  They  grasped  the  dog,  they  swung  him.  4  That 's  too  much,' 

I  shouted,  rushing  straight  into  the  middle. 
4  You  brutes ! '  I  said.  4  That  God  created  such 

To  me  is  an  inexplicable  riddle. 
Let  the  poor  beast  alone  ! '  But  who  could  touch 

Hearts  stony  hard  as  theirs  ?    4  Go,  play  the  fiddle, 
Monkey,'  said  one.    4  Be  careful  what  you  do, 
Or  you  may  likely  get  a  ducking  too.' 

LXIV 

44  When  I  heard  that,  I  struck  the  hulking  fellow, 
Who  held  the  dog,  right  straight  between  the  eyes. 

The  beast  let  out  an  execrable  bellow, 

Partly  from  pain  and  partly  from  surprise. 

4 1  know  you  're  nothing  but  a  pack  of  yellow, 
Cowardly  rogues,'  I  said.  This  made  arise 

Curses  in  such  intolerable  clamor 

As  really  would  have  silenced  a  trip-hammer. 

LXV 

"  They  dropped  the  dog  and  four  or  five  seized  me. 

They  hustled  me,  they  swung  me  in  the  air. 
But,  after  all,  thought  I,  the  dog  is  free. 

They  may  do  whatever  they  like.  I  shall  not  care. 
Their  oaths,  their  general  language  would  not  be 

Fit  for  a  lady's  bower.  I  should  not  dare 
Repeat  them.    Then,  with  one  tremendous  lunge, 
They  hurled  me  out  to  a  colossal  plunge. 

22 


THEODORA 

LXVI 

"  I  crashed,  I  splashed,  I  floundered.  When  at  last 

I  stood  waist-deep  in  protoplasmic  fluid, 
I  saw  my  late  tormentors  fly  with  vast 

Appreciation  of  the  many  hued 
Spectacle  I  presented.  While,  aghast, 

Dejected  as  a  melancholy  Druid, 
The  dog  sat  sympathetic  on  the  bank. 
Even  he,  I  felt,  considered  me  a  crank. 

LXVI  I 

"  I  staggered  out,  aglow  with  conscious  virtue. 

And,  after  all,  a  bath  could  do  no  harm. 
The  touch  of  natural  water  cannot  hurt  you, 

Especially  if  taken  rather  warm. 
Also,  the  superficies  of  dirt  you 

Can  easily  remove  without  alarm. 
I  dried,  I  brushed,  I  walked  on,  and  found  harbor 
In  Miss  Theodora  Perkins's  tasteful  arbor." 

LXVI  1 1 

"  Oh !  "  said  Miss  Theodora.  "  Is  that  all  ? " 

"  All,"  said  the  prophet.  "  And  quite  enough  perhaps." 

The  lady  gasped.  A  prophet  should  appall, 
And  with  a  list  of  startling  thunderclaps. 

But  this  one  told  with  air  so  genial 
Such  tawdry,  yet  astonishing  mishaps, 

She  really  felt  that  she  must  look  him  over, 

To  see  what  sort  of  clue  she  could  discover. 

23 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXIX 

One  thing  was  evident,  he  was  not  lying. 

No  child  could  lie  with  such  a  pair  of  eyes, 
So  blue,  so  clear,  so  innocent,  supplying 

Your  heart  with  inexhaustible  surmise. 
But  if  he  was  sincere  in  madly  trying 

To  make  this  sorry  world  look  otherwise, 
The  course  was  plain  with  so  divine  a  dunce: 
"  Oh,  child,"  she  cried,  "  you  must  go  home  at  once." 

LXX 

"  Go  home ! "  said  Percival,  laughing  loud.  "  I  gather 
That  you  do  not  approve  my  large  ambition. 

I  certainly  shall  not  go  home.    I  'd  rather 

Stay  here  and  visit  you,  with  kind  permission." 

"At  least  I  ought  to  telephone  your  father." 
"  You  can't,"  said  he.  u  Consider  the  position. 

My  father  is  beyond  the  ocean  briny, 

While  you  and  I  here  trifle  hours  sunshiny. 

LXXI 

"  Oh,  sweet  Miss  Theodora,  let  me  stay 

And  visit  you.  I  '11  make  no  sort  of  trouble. 

Cousins  should  be  acquainted.  Through  your  day 
I  '11  flicker  like  a  sun-enchanted  bubble. 

And  when  you  Ve  had  enough,  I  '11  slip  away. 

I  '11  leave  your  memory  full  of  sweet  things,  double 

What  you  can  reckon  up  by  telling  o'er 

The  humdrum  story  of  what 's  gone  before. 
24 


THEODORA 

^ 

LXXII 

"  I  '11  sing,  I  '11  play,  I  '11  tell  you  merry  tales 
Of  idle  dreams,  tricked  out  with  witty  chatter. 

And  if  by  chance  my  stock  of  laughter  fails  — 
It  never  does  —  you  '11  furnish  forth  new  matter. 

We  '11  wander  in  the  moonshine.  Autumn  gales, 
Whipping  the  window  with  the  raindrops'  patter, 

Will  only  set  my  frolic  fancy  twitching, 

So  that  you  '11  find  it  more  and  more  bewitching. 

LXXIII 

"  It 's  settled  then,  I  stay."  His  doubtful  cousin 

Felt  quite  unequal  to  the  situation. 
"  I  '11  be  the  fiddle-bow  and  you  the  rosin," 

He  said,  u  oh,  exquisite  concatenation !  " 
The  more  she  pondered  on  the  dozen  dozen 

Objections,  still  the  more  her  hesitation 
Dwindled  before  this  tantalizing  scheme, 
An  odd,  bewildering,  enchanting  dream. 

LXXIV 

Her  life  was  slipping  from  her.  Youth  was  gone, 
And  age  approached  with  insolent  rapidity. 

Just  now,  at  any  rate,  the  joys  she'd  known 
Appeared  of  most  distressing  insipidity. 

Of  course  a  visitor  of  such  a  tone 

Would  tease  old  maids  to  querulous  acidity. 

But  none  could  criticize  her  conduct  justly. 

The  fabric  of  her  fame  was  built  robustly. 
25 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXV 

This  thing  of  smiles,  this  shred  of  dainty  laughter, 
Should  mingle  for  a  moment  in  her  ease, 

Should  lift  her  up  and  indolently  waft  her 
Wherever  such  a  fairy  fate  should  please. 

Let  gray  monotony  descend  hereafter, 
As  fog-banks  settle  over  summer  seas. 

"  Why,  yes,"  she  said,  "  visit,  as  you  suggest. 

Perhaps  your  father,  too,  would  think  it  best." 

LXXVI 

"He  would,  he  would,"  said  Percival. — Then  began, 

For  her,  at  least,  an  era  of  felicity. 
The  hours  and  the  days  serenely  ran, 

An  undistinguished  web  of  domesticity, 
Delight  upon  delight,  with  neither  plan 

Nor  any  sort  of  labored  periodicity. 
They  played,  they  sang,  they  ate,  they  drank,  they  roved 
Through  every  field  that  Theodora  loved. 

LXXVII 

Her  life  had  never  known  days  so  delicious. 

It  was  not  love,  it  was  not  even  romance. 
He  told  her  of  his  reveries  ambitious, 

Of  setting  right  the  wayward  hand  of  chance, 
Of  curing  men  of  hate  and  freaks  seditious, 

And  preaching  joy's  eternal  dominance. 
She  tried  at  times  to,  intimate  some  scruple, 
But  only  made  his  energy  quadruple. 

26 


THEODORA 

LXXVIII 

What  did  she  care  ?  She  knew  he  could  not  be 
Joy  long  for  earth,  at  least  joy  long  for  her. 

Let  him  go  out  and  touch  reality 
Amid  the  world's  intolerable  stir. 

For  a  brief  while  he  should  believe  that  he 
Had  found  one  solitary  worshiper. 

To  carp,  to  argue,  to  discuss,  to  reason, 

Seemed,  in  her  mood,  no  less  than  Judas  treason. 

LXXIX 

The  only  trifling  shadow  in  her  joy, 

Which  swelled  and  darkened,  as  the  days  went  fleeting, 
Was  the  reflection  of  how  soon  must  cloy 

All  pleasure  she  could  offer.  The  first  meeting 
A  spirit  merry  as  hers  might  well  employ 

His  fancy  a  few  weeks.  But  then,  completing 
The  circuit  of  her  limited  domain, 
He  would  be  mad  to  travel  forth  again. 

LXXX 

With  melancholy  eye  she  watched  him  growing 
More  restless  daily.  What  was  wise  to  do  ? 

By  every  method  to  postpone  his  going 

And  bind  him  with  her  still  a  week  or  two  ? 

Or  take  him  out  into  the  world,  thus  showing 
The  hopelessness  of  making  an  ado 

Such  as  he  dreamed  in  that  vast,  helter-skelter, 

Mad,  motley,  human,  and  inhuman  welter. 

27 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXXI 

After  long  hesitation  she  decided 

The  latter  way,  though  risky,  would  be  best. 

Perhaps  the  human  folly  he  derided 

Would  overcome  him  with  its  wild  unrest, 

Teach  him  that  life  could  never  be  divided 
From  all  its  misery  by  an  unfledged  jest. 

She  asked  him  with  a  voice  fear  made  unsteady. 

She  found  him,  as  she  feared,  alas,  too  ready. 

LXXXII 

a  We  '11  take  the  car  and  spend  a  day,"  she  said, 
"  On  city  sights."  "  Why  not  a  week  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  answered;  "I  shall  be  half  dead, 
And  you,  too,  with  a  day's  variety." 

He  laughed  his  elfin  laugh  and  shook  his  head. 
"  Neither  a  day  nor  week  would  finish  me. 

Come,  come,  oh,  come.  We  '11  start  with  dawn  to-morrow." 

She  heard  and  sighed,  anticipating  sorrow. 

LXXXIII 

They  started.  What  a  furious  day  it  was. 

Each  moment  carried  some  divine  disclosure. 
The  crowds,  the  shops,  the  colors,  all  gave  cause 

For  fluttering  his  precarious  composure. 
No  turn  but  made  poor  Theodora  pause 

In  dread  of  some  intolerable  exposure. 
But  he  was  all  absorbed  with  drinking  in 
New  sights,  new  thoughts,  and  smothered  by  the  din. 

28 


THEODORA 

LXXXIV 

She  even  risked  the  theater,  a  show, 

With  dazzling  lights,  and  flashing  limbs,  and  glitter. 
How  he  would  take  it  she  really  did  not  know, 

Whether  the  nimble  fiddles  with  their  twitter 
Would  put  his  blood  into  a  golden  glow 

And  make  him  break  out  into  actions  fitter 
For  an  asylum  than  an  auditorium. 
But  for  the  moment  he  was  all  sensorium. 

LXXXV 

On  the  way  home  he  hardly  spoke  at  all. 

He  seemed  quite  drowned  in  matter  for  reflection. 
His  friend,  whose  hope  was  pitiably  small, 

Dared  not  at  first  disturb  such  introspection. 
But  finally  she  ventured  to  recall 

Herself  to  his  discourteous  recollection. 
"You  don't  expect  to  cheer  a  world  so  dead  ? " 
"  Oh,  yes,"  he  said,  and  that  was  all  he  said. 

LXXXVI 

Next  day  he  also  seemed  absorbed,  though  less. 

She  roused  him  with  all  possible  exertion, 
Tried  every  means  to  cast  forgetfulness 

On  what  she  now  blamed  as  a  mad  excursion. 
In  the  extremity  of  her  distress 

She  taxed  her  wit  for  old  and  new  diversion. 
And  when  too  quickly  night  and  parting  came, 
She  hoped  his  merriment  was  just  the  same. 

29 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXXVII 

Next  morning  she  appeared  a  trifle  late, 

Not  being  much  used  to  keeping  hours  ascetic. 

"Where 's  Mr.  Smith  ? "  she  asked,  with  untouched  plate. 
The  maid  replied,  her  air  apologetic, 

"  Mr.  Smith  's  gone.  —  At  quarter  before  eight," 
She  added  with  precision  sympathetic. 

"  Gone  ? "  "  Yes."  Then  came  the  further  helpful  comment 

"  I  saw  him  at  your  desk  for  half  a  moment." 

LXXXVIII 

Miss  Theodora  hurried  to  her  desk, 

Half  hoping  —  what  ?  And  quite  as  vaguely  fearing. 
Just  possibly  this  spirit  picturesque 

Might  have  explained  his  sudden  disappearing. 
To  leave  her  thus  were  surely  too  grotesque. 

She  sent  the  maid  away,  lest  grief  appearing 
Should  make  her  seem  absurd.  She  found  no  letter, 
But  something  even  more  unexpected  met  her. 

LXXXIX 

Her  pocketbook  was  gone,  with  fifty  dollars. 

This  exquisite  visitor  had  taken  money. 
Not  even  the  aptest  of  joy's  merry  scholars 

Would  be  prepared  for  anything  so  funny. 
She  had  supplied  him  with  shirts,  socks,  and  collars. 

He  sucked  her  bounty  as  a  bee  sucks  honey. 
But  innocent  enough  to  be  a  thief — 
Our  Theodora  found  it  past  belief. 

30 


THEODORA" 

XG 

Yet  there  it  was,  or  rather  it  was  not. 

The  fact  was  there,  but  there  was  not  the  purse. 
As  for  the  money,  it  was  not  worth  a  thought. 

She  merely  gave  heaven  thanks  it  was  no  worse. 
But  gone !  gone !  vanished  all  the  joy  he  brought, 

Turning  her  prose  life  into  gladsome  verse ! 
Making  her  young  with  every  word  he  'd  spoken ! 
Gone !  Gone  !   It  seemed  to  her  her  heart  was  broken, 

XGI 

Her  inclination  was  to  follow  him, 

Persuade  him,  or  implore  him,  to  come  back. 

Eyes  even  preternaturally  dim 

Could  easily  trace  out  his  gaudy  track. 

But  why  ?  His  stay  with  her  was  but  a  whim. 
Another  whim  had  seized  him.  Her  mere  lack 

Of  his  delightful  presence  would  not  fret  him.  — 

No,  she  would  suffer  in  silence  and  forget  him. 

XGII 

Meanwhile  the  sum  of  her  divine  solicitude 

Was  eagerly  advancing  on  his  way, 
His  thought  preoccupied  with  fresh  vicissitude. 

Not  that  he  felt  the  least  desire  to  stray 
Into  the  region  of  delights  illicit-hued. 

Mere  common  joy  sufficed  him.  But  to  stay 
Longer  with  even  Miss  Perkins  was  distasteful. 
Too  many  days  in  one  spot  would  be  wasteful. 
31 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XCIII 

As  for  the  money,  oh,  that  was  merely  a  loan. 

It  would  have  been  time  lost  to  borrow  formally. 
You  see,  the  youth  was  not  like  those  you  Ve  known, 

In  fact,  was  constituted  quite  abnormally. 
To  smile,  to  sing,  to  wander  gayly  on, 

Forgetting,  was  with  him  to  live  but  normally. 
He  dropped  his  charming  hostess  from  her  place 
In  memory,  as  if  he  had  never  seen  her  face. 

XCIV 
The  merry  breath  of  liberty  enchanted  him. 

The  dancing  autumn  leaves  made  him  dance  too. 
No  vestiges  of  care  or  sorrow  haunted  him, 

No  fret  of  what  he  had  done  or  might  do. 
The  joyful  moments  beckoned,  as  if  they  wanted  him; 

His  path  was  anywhere  'neath  heaven's  blue. 
The  common  glee  of  youth  in  him  was  tripled, 
By  neither  fear,  nor  thought,  nor  memory  crippled. 

XGV 

As  he  drew  near  the  city,  his  keen  wits 
Were  sharpened  to  an  exquisite  intensity. 

It  fascinated  all  his  nerves  with  its 
Varied  and  inexhaustible  immensity. 

The  common  horror  of  the  youth  who  pits 
His  loneliness  against  that  human  density, 

The  sense  of  bare  flesh  beating  on  a  wall, 

Did  not  approach  this  frolic  heart  at  all. 
32 


THEODORA 

XGVI 

He  wandered  all  day  idly  through  the  streets, 

Wondering  and  gazing.  Sometimes  he  would  stop 

To  chatter  with  the  chatterers  one  meets 
At  busy  corners,  or  before  a  shop 

Would  pause  inspecting  diamonds  or  sweets. 
The  wonderer  was  wondered  at.  A  crop 

Of  vague  conjecture  followed  his  blond  hair, 

And  ancient  dames  and  gay-frocked  girls  would  stare. 

XGVII 
He  sometimes  felt  inclined  to  start  his  mission; 

But  a  celestial  finger  held  him  back, 
Suggesting  with  a  wholesome  premonition 

That  he  had  better  tread  the  common  track 
A  little  longer.  Some  few  days  attrition 

With  all  these  souls  might  indicate  their  lack 
More  clearly.  He  perhaps  could  better  dissipate 
Errors  which  for  a  while  he  should  participate. 

XGVIII 

And  so,  about  the  coming  of  the  dark  — 

"  Does  darkness  come  in  cities,  though  ? "  he  queried 
He  passed  the  gate  of  an  amusement  park, 

And  being  by  now,  for  him,  a  little  wearied, 
He  entered.  Everywhere  the  electric  spark 

Spread  wide  abroad  its  radiance  ensphered; 
Everywhere  stirred  the  buzz  and  hum  and  clatter 
Of  boundless  human  mirth  with  little  matter. 

33 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XCIX 
Percival  was  delighted.  He  sat  down 

Upon  a  shaded  bench  beneath  some  trees. 
He  shut  his  eyes  and  let  his  senses  drown 

In  a  vague  chaos  of  delicious  ease. 
He  heard  the  far-off  noises  of  the  town, 

Music  near  by,  and  the  recurrent  breeze 
Brought  murmurs  low  and  now  and  then  a  kiss, 
From  love  astray  in  that  feigned  wilderness. 

C 

He  lost  himself  in  dreams  of  rapturous  things, 

Of  exquisite,  fantastical  futilities, 
Of  Cupids  flitting  with  translucent  wings, 

Or  other  such  aerial  facilities, 
Of  blue  eyes  and  blond  hair,  a  voice  which  sings 

With  more  than  our  terrestrial  abilities.  — 
Then,  when  the  golden  vision  had  burned  out, 
He  rose  and  shook  himself  and  looked  about. 

CI 

Something  to  eat,  he  thought,  would  aptly  mingle 
With  matter  of  ethereal  suggestion. 

He  never  yet  had  felt  his  fancy  tingle 
Less  delicately  after  full  digestion. 

He  found  the  restaurant.  Though  there  no  single 
Table  was  empty  for  him,  yet  this  question 

Troubled  him  not  at  all.  He  chose  his  place 

Where  he  picked  out  the  most  attractive  face. 
34 


THEODORA 

CII 

The  face  was  young  and  gay  and  quick  and  sprightly, 
Blue  eyes,  not  quite  like  those  in  Percival's  dream. 

What  blue  eyes  ever  are  ?  A  not  unsightly 
Dark  face  sat  next,  also  a  man's  with  gleam 

Of  earthly  humor.  Percival  asked  politely 
If  he  might  take  the  empty  chair.  Supreme 

Indifference,  which  had  first  possessed  the  fair  fully, 

Changed  to  approval  when  she  eyed  him  carefully. 

GUI 

"  All  right,"  the  man  said,  nodding.  "  Thanks,  I  see 
You  're  drinking  beer  and  eating  pretzels.  Waiter, 

Another  order  of  the  same  for  me." 

The  brass  band  here  began  to  play  and  cater 

To  the  mixed  throng's  inordinate  jollity. 
Percival  listened  with  delight.  When,  later, 

The  music  stopped,  he  ventured  conversation, 

And  ventured  with  his  usual  animation. 

CIV 

"  I  like  it  here,  I  like  the  noise  and  bustle, 
Clatter  of  human  foot  and  human  tongue. 

The  brass  band,  to  be  sure,  displays  more  muscle 
And  sound  capacity  of  healthy  lung 

Than  musical  perfection,  but  the  rustle 
Of  this  delicious  southern  breeze  among 

The  leaves  is  music  enough."  His  hearers  stared, 

For  high  aesthetics  clearly  not  prepared. 
35 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

CV 

He  saw  them  stare.  "  Who  are  you,  by  the  way  ? " 

He  placidly  inquired.  "  Who  are  you  ?  " 
Asked  the  young  man,  in  turn.  "  'T  would  take  a  day 

To  tell  my  history  completely  through. 
My  name  is  Percival  Smith,  and  I  'm  astray 

In  the  wide  world,  endeavoring  to  do 
Something  to  make  men  leave  their  melancholic 
Fashions  and  live  a  life  of  mirth  and  frolic." 

CVI 

"  Percival  Smith !  Son  of  the  millionaire  ?  " 

The  young  man  asked  again.  "  Oh,  don't,"  said  Percival. 
*4  Millions  are  things  for  which  I  do  not  care. 

I  know  that  average  people  think  the  worse  of  all 
That  much  berated  class.  I  cannot  bear 

To  have  my  father  object  of  the  curse  of  all." 
"The  millionaire!  "  murmured  the  youth.  Each  maid 
Turned  pale  beneath  her  hat's  protecting  shade. 

CVII 

"  You  need  n't  apologize,  we  don't  mind,"  said  one. 

"  We  really  don't,  a  bit,"  agreed  the  other. 
"  No  matter  what  a  millionaire  had  done, 

I  'm  sure  that  I  could  love  him  like  a  brother." 
The  young  man  interrupted,  "  You  Ve  begun, 

I  '11  finish.  One  good  turn  deserves  another. 
I  'm  Harry  Jarvis,  this  is  Nancy  Walker, 
This,  Jessie  Gates;  but  Nancy  is  the  talker." 

36 


THEODORA 

GVIII 
"  I  see,"  said  Percival.  "  Shall  we  have  more  beer  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  cried  Jarvis.  Foaming  beer  was  brought. 
"  From  what  you  've  said,"  Jarvis  went  on,  "I  fear 

That  you  may  find  more  trouble  than  you  thought 
In  taking  people  sharply  by  the  ear 

And  making  them  forget  the  lessons  taught 
By  all  the  toil  and  fret  and  sweat  and  worry 
Of  modern  life's  intolerable  hurry. 

CIX 

" How  do  you  manage ?  "  "I  don't,"  was  the  reply. 

u  I  'm  quite  disposed  for  now  to  sit  and  chatter 
With  merry  girls  and  let  the  crowd  go  by. 

If  I  can  get  a  moment  in  the  clatter 
To  teach  a  few  to  smile  instead  of  sigh, 

It 's  very  well.  If  not,  it  does  n't  matter. 
I  mean  myself  to  work  a  pleasant  sample 
And  spread  the  joy  of  living  by  example. 

GX 

"  And  right  you  are,"  said  Jessie,  "  I  '11  laugh  with  you." 
"  I  at  you,"  murmured  Nancy.  "  Good  for  both," 

Said  Percival.  u  The  very  heart  and  pith  you 
Have  seized  of  all  my  mission.  I  '11  take  oath 

That  when  my  teachings  turn  into  a  myth,  you 
Will  rank  as  high  apostles  in  its  growth." 

"  Oh,  oaths,  and  growths,  and  myths,  apostles,  teaching !  " 

Scoffed  Nancy.  "  You  '11  never  make  men  laugh  by  preaching." 

37 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

CXI 

"I  can,  I  can,"  cried  Percival.  "I  will! 

You  're  laughing."  "  Just  because  your  eyes  are  blue, 
And  your  hair  curly,  and  you  can't  sit  still, 

A  pleasant  thing  for  any  girl  to  view." 
u  If  my  blue  eyes  can  supplement  my  skill, 

And  curly  hair  can  prove  my  doctrine  true, 
Why  then,  let  azure  eyes  and  golden  curls 
Make  merry  converts  of  bewitching  girls." 

CXII 
u  See  here,"  said  Jarvis,  who  had  listened  keenly, 

u  Where  are  you  staying  ?  "  u  I  ?  Oh,  anywhere 
On  the  green  earth."  "  That 's  living  rather  meanly 

For  the  sole  scion  of  a  millionaire. 
Why  not  bunk  in  with  me  ?  My  rooms  are  cleanly, 

High  up,  and  richly  furnished  with  fresh  air." 
"  His  father  is  a  millionaire  like  yours," 
Said  Nancy.  "  No,"  said  Jarvis,  "  yours  has  scores 

CXIII 
u  Of  useless  millions,  mine  has  one  perhaps, 

But  mighty  little  ever  gets  to  me. 
Come,  if  you  '11  take  my  offer,  get  your  traps." 

"  My  traps  ?  "  said  Percival.  "  The  traps  you  see 
Are  all  the  traps  I  have."  "  You  wealthy  chaps," 

Said  Nancy,  "  have  small  comfort  certainly ; 
But  go  and  join  the  other  millionaire. 
You  '11  get  on  finely,  an  enchanting  pair." 

38 


THEODORA 

CXIV 

"  Your  offer  is  kind,"  said  Percival,  "  I  accept. 

If  we  agree,  we  '11  charm  the  world  together. 
If  not,  I  soon  will  make  you  an  adept 

At  turning  tempest  into  sunny  weather. 
How  often  has  delight  from  sadness  leapt 

By  touches  soft  as  tickling  of  a  feather." 
"  Say,"  chuckled  Nancy,  "  you  're  a  giddy  thing. 
I  'd  like  to  tie  you  to  my  apron-string." 

cxv 

"  You  may,"  said  Percival.  So  they  chatted  long, 
And  Nancy  mocked,  but  Jessie  looked  and  listened. 

She  was  a  creature  full  of  dance  and  song, 

When  the  whim  struck  her,  gay  as  e'er  was  christened. 

But  when  she  felt  the  subtle  moods  that  throng 

With  more  celestial  things,  her  blue  eyes  glistened. 

This  fair-haired  bit  of  heaven  pleased  her  fancy. 

He  only  seemed  a  lunatic  to  Nancy. 

CXVI 

But  lunatic  or  angel,  he  could  talk. 

He  made  the  dull  and  common  world  look  new, 
And  turned  dead  leaves  upon  a  withered  stalk 
£     To  blossoms  freshened  with  ethereal  dew. 
The  plodders  toiling  in  life's  dusty  walk 

Were  all  at  once  transfigured  to  his  view. 
And  frolic  joy  so  blithe  from  heaven  descended 
That  you  would  think  earth's  drag  forever  ended. 

39 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

CXVII 

He  talked  until  they  had  to  leave  the  park, 

He  talked  as  they  strolled  idly  through  the  street. 

Each  passer-by  was  subject  of  remark. 

His  tongue  was  quite  as  tireless  as  his  feet. 

And  even  when  they  had  to  end  their  lark 
And  he  was  landed  safe  in  Jarvis's  suite, 

Nancy  insisted  he  would  still  talk  on. 

He  did  not,  but  slept  quiet  as  a  stone. 


BOOK  II 
MORGAN 

I 

NOW  Jarvis  had  a  journalistic  friend, 
Named  Matthew  Morgan,  writer-up  of  scandal, 
A  prince  of  scoops.  Give  him  the  smallest  end 

Of  any  thread,  however  fine,  to  handle, 
And  he  would  follow  till  the  game  was  penned. 

Diogenes,  behind  his  farthing  candle, 
Had  not  a  more  acute  olfactory  organ 
For  tracing  evil  scents  than  Matthew  Morgan. 

II 

He  could  elucidate  a  trust's  deep  dealings, 

Unravel  dark  designs  of  millionaires, 
Dance  with  delight  on  anybody's  feelings, 

And  make  good  copy  out  of  orphans'  prayers. 
Divorces,  murders,  quaint  and  marvelous  stealings, 

All  crimes  to  him  were  every  day  affairs. 
His  rhetoric  was  apt,  his  conscience  null. 
The  only  sin  for  him  was  to  be  dull. 

41 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

III 

At  first  sight  he  appeared  a  fat,  gross  beast, 

With  bulging  cheeks,  thick  lips,  and  heavy  eyes. 

His  hands  were  coarse  and  hairy,  his  neck  creased 
With  fat,  his  belly  of  ungainly  size. 

Yet,  with  it  all,  a  humor  shrewd  at  least, 

And  when  you  knew  it,  even  profoundly  wise, 

Lurked  in  his  face  and  mingled  kindly  glances 

With  his  most  biting  and  most  cruel  fancies. 

IV 

He  knew  the  world  and  human  sin  and  folly, 

And  knew  the  folly  greater  than  the  sin. 
The  knowledge  might  have  made  him  melancholy ; 

But  he  preferred  to  drown  it  with  the  din 
Of  noisy  jest  and  revel  wild  and  jolly. 

There  were  few  places  where  he  had  not  been, 
Few  fights  of  brawn  and  brain  he  had  not  fought 
And  not  so  many  thoughts  he  had  not  thought. 

V 

One  evening  Jarvis  met  him  in  the  street. 

They  laughed  and  chaffed,  swapped  trivial  jokes  and  stories. 
"  Oh,  but,"  said  Jarvis,  "  I  must  have  you  meet 

My  chum,  my  prince  of  unimagined  glories, 
My  angel,  lunatic,  spring  lamb  whose  bleat 

Will  spin  you  columns.  You  know  where  my  door  is, 
Or  better  still,  come  now."  Said  Morgan,  gaping, 
"  What  sort  of  freakish  phantom  are  you  shaping  ? " 

42 


MORGAN 

VI 

"No  phantom,"  answered  Jarvis,  "just  the  son 
Of  Simon  Peter  Smith,  the  millionaire, 

A  boy  of  twenty  and  the  prince  of  fun, 
Of  fun  for  others.  With  a  solemn  air 

He  preaches  that  the  good  old  world  is  done 

And  his  new  world  a-coming.  You  would  stare, 

Yes,  even  you,  Morgan,  let  him  once  explain 

The  curious  dreams  that  riot  in  his  brain." 

VII 

"  A  new  world  coming,"  murmured  Morgan  slowly, 
His  eyelids  drooped  with  languid  apprehension, 

"  I  Ve  bumped  against  new  worlds  till  I  am  wholly 
A  mass  of  black-and-blueness.  Fools'  invention 

Can  frame  new  worlds,  fantastic  or  unholy, 
Too  fast  for  a  reporter  even  to  mention. 

This  rough  old  world,  if  cranks  would  let  it  be, 

Has  sunny  corners  good  enough  for  me." 

VIII 
"  I  know,  but  then  you  ought  to  hear  him  talk." 

"  Good  God ! "  said  Morgan,  "  I  can  talk  myself." 
"  You  can,"  said  Jarvis,  "  till  your  hearers  balk 

At  such  a  sea  of  drivel.  But  this  elf, 
This  mad  thing,  with  his  dreams  to  make  ghosts  walk, 

Can  lay  your  old  ideas  on  the  shelf 
So  neatly,  I  think  that  even  an  ancient  sinner 
Like  you,  to  hear  him  would  forget  his  dinner. 
43 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

IX 

"  He  says  the  world  might  be  made  over  new, 

If  men  would  banish  thought  and  smile  at  sorrow, 

He  says  nine  tenths  of  all  our  grief  are  due 
To  living  not  to-day  but  in  to-morrow, 

That  all  our  hours  are  blackened  by  a  crew 
Of  cares  we  either  beg  or  steal  or  borrow." 

"  These  theories,"  laughed  Morgan,  "  would  miscarry 

In  fighting  all  the  cares  you  borrow,  Harry." 

X 

"  Never  mind  me.  I  know  I'm  just  the  same 

I  always  was,  a  good  for  nothing  fellow. 
But  this  celestial  spark  can  touch  with  flame 

Even  a  bit  of  parchment  old  and  yellow 
As  you  are.  Why,  I  Ve  seen  him  smile  and  tame 

A  politician  in  the  street,  turn  mellow 
Age,  wrinkles,  crabbed  curs,  whate'er  comes  near  him. 
Now,  Morgan,  just  look  in  a  while  and  hear  him." 

XI 

"  Jessie  turned  mellow  too  ? "  asked  Morgan,  curious. 

"  Ah,  ha ! "  laughed  Jarvis.  "  Have  I  touched  you  there? 
Why,  Morgan,  yes,  your  Jessie  has  a  furious, 

Mad  fancy  for  this  bubble  of  the  air." 
"Just  like  her  to  adore  a  prophet  spurious, 

And  when  did  ever  such  a  prophet  spare 
So  edible,  so  delicate  a  duckling  ? 
Come,  Jarvis,  let  us  see  your  babe  and  suckling." 

44 


MORGAN 

XII 

Meantime  the  prophet  wandered  in  the  park 

And  Jessie  strolled  beside  him.  Moonshine  merry, 

Magical  moonshine,  washed  away  the  dark, 
And  clad  the  bare,  stiff  trees  with  millinery 

Of  flashing  diamonds.  u  Lovers  on  a  lark," 

Thought  the  policeman,  as  he  watched  them,  very 

Decidedly  disposed  to  envy  both, 

As  frolicsome  as  lambs  with  half  their  growth. 

XIII 
And  don't  think  Percival  would  always  lecture,' 

Or  lay  down  frosty  precepts  of  delight. 
He  could  .weave  webs  of  dainty  architecture 

Out  of  the  moonshine  mystery  of  night, 
Could  tangle  thought  with  radiant  conjecture, 

Make  dreams  as  visible  as  things  of  sight. 
Yes,  even,  at  his  moments,  he  could  listen, 
And  let  the  stars  uninterrupted  glisten. 

XIV 

Thus,  as  he  walked  by  Jess,  he  murmured  low: 
"  Why,  Jessie,  can't  you  see  the  jolly  crew 

That  sweeps  about  us,  swaying  to  and  fro, 
With  song  and  jest  and  laughter  ever  new, 

Embracing,  kissing  lightly  as  they  go, 
Satyr  and  faun  and  dryad  ?    Cannot  you 

Hear  their  mad  revelry,  their  pipe  and  tabor, 

Each  passing  on  the  frolic  to  his  neighbor  ? 
45 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XV 

"  I  hear  them,  I  behold  them.  My  nerves  flutter 

With  ecstasy  at  their  perambulation. 
Come,  let  us  join  them.  Words  can  hardly  utter 

The  splendor  of  their  magic  invitation." 
"  Words,"  shivered  Jessie.  "  Percival,  when  you  mutter 

Your  crazy  dreams  of  all  things  in  creation, 
My  soul  is  smothered  in  your  fancy's  foam." 
She  clutched  his  arm.  "  Oh,  come  now,  let 's  go  home !  " 

XVI 
"  Home ! "  answered  he.  "  We  're  on  the  edge  of  seeing 

Things  never  yet  beheld  by  human  eye. 
Old  lovers  in  their  frail,  enraptured  being 

May  here  transfigure  sad  mortality. 
See  Juliet,  dim,  behind  the  thicket  fleeing, 

And  Cleopatra  kissing  Antony, 
And  Dido  trying  vainly  to  win  over 
The  Roman  fates  of  her  obdurate  lover. 

XVII 

"  There 's  Mary  Stuart  wooed  by  Rizzio, 
Forgetful  of  the  torch,  the  axe,  the  block, 

And  laughing  ladies,  who  divinely  blow 
Their  fairy  kisses  with  a  quip  or  mock. 

Jess,  don't  you  see  them  ?  "  "  Percival,  I  know 
Your  fancies  always  give  my  nerves  a  shock. 

Come  down  to  earth.  One  single  common  kiss 

Is  worth  queens  dancing  in  a  wilderness. 

46 


MORGAN 

XVIII 

"  The  trouble  is  with  you  that,  always  thinking 

Men  may  be  happy,  you  forget  men  are. 
You  spend  your  days  and  nights  devoutly  blinking 

At  some  remote,  extraordinary  star, 
When,  if  you  'd  shut  your  eyes,  you  might  be  drinking 

Long,  pleasant  draughts  from  fountains  not  so  far. 
What  is  the  use  of  preaching  at  your  leisure, 
When  other  men  go  out  and  pluck  their  pleasure  ? " 

XIX 

"  Why,  Jess,"  laughed  Percival,  "what  flowers  of  speech! 

"  Tag-ends,"  she  murmured,  "  from  your  dictionary." 
"Different  delights  for  different  men.  To  preach," 

He  said,  u  is  mine,  with  large  vocabulary. 
Wide  words,  bright  thoughts  give  me  joy;  not  to  reach 

For  passions  that  are  merely  momentary. 
Oh,  Jess,  those  dancing  queens  to  me  are  better 
Than  common  kisses  which  can  only  fetter." 

XX 

But  then  he  changed  his  tone  and  wooed  her  gently, 
Though  still  with  words,  scarce  a  caressing  touch ; 

With  phrases  breathing  love  as  indolently 
As  warm  south  winds  and  ravishing  as  such, 

Low,  sweet,  entrancing  love-words,  murmured  quaintly, 
Or  silence  that  entranced  almost  as  much. 

In  long,  soft  dreams  her  spirit  seemed  to  roam, 

And  shuddered  when  it  found  itself  at  home. 

47 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXI 

At  home  at  last,  with  Morgan,  Jarvis,  Nance; 

And  when  she  stepped  among  that  godless  crew, 
Poor  Jessie  felt  her  visions  of  romance 

Vanish,  as  bright  airs  chase  the  morning  dew. 
But,  Percival,  after  one  careless  glance, 

Was  quite  content  to  key  his  thoughts  anew. 
"Jarvis,"  he  said,  "and  Nancy,  and  a  visitor. 
Pray  tell  me  who 's  your  friend.  I  'm  great  inquisitor. 

XXII 

"  This,"  Jarvis  said,  "  is  Matthew  Morgan,  first 

Of  journalists  in  this  forsaken  city, 
Infernally  alive  to  smear  the  worst 

Of  tragedies  with  reportorial  pity. 
A  ruffian,  as  you  see.  Yet,  though  accurs 

By  calling,  he  can  sing  a  simple  ditty, 
Adapted  to  infatuate  a  maid 
By  purling  brooks  beneath  a  summer  shade." 

XXIII 

"And'this,"  cried  Nancy,  catching  up  the  ball, 
"  Is,  Morgan,  a  perambulating  prophet, 

Who  has  a  mission,  or  what  you  would  call 
A  mare's  nest,  and  unlimitedly  scoff  at. 

The  slight  affair  of  getting  rid  of  all 

Earth's  woes  is  his  and  he  thinks  nothing  of  it. 

That 's  my  description  of  your  tricks,  you  goose. 

Now  give  the  gentleman  your  own.  Cut  loose." 
48 


MORGAN 

XXIV 

Percival  laughed,  like  everybody  else. 

"  Poor  Nancy,  how  she  does  resist  the  light, 
Whose  beams  fall  round  her,  as  the  thick  rain  pelts ! 

She  almost  learns  the  lesson,  but  not  quite ; 
And  when  her  heart  with  sweet  compunction  melts, 

She  barbs  her  tongue  more  keenly  out  of  spite. 
The  mission,  Mr.  Morgan,  I  'm  about 
Is  really  not  so  bad  as  she  makes  out. 

XXV 

"  I  'm  not  a  teacher,  preacher,  or  reformer, 
Who  frets  men  for  his  own  peculiar  glory, 

No  ranting  and  theatrical  barn-stormer, 
Who  thunders  that  this  world  is  transitory 

And  warns  poor  souls  of  coming  regions  warmer. 
I  look,  I  touch,  I  wonder,  simply  sorry 

That  men  should  be  so  wretched,  when  they  may 

See  life  in  just  a  little  brighter  way." 

XXVI 

"Oh,"  Morgan  growled,  "a  little  brighter  way. 
Just  come  with  me,  and  I  will  show  you  hell. 
But  being  a  millionaire,  no  doubt  you  pay 

Men  to  look  bright.   It  answers  just  as  well." 
"Millions  are  nothing,"  said  Percival.   "Human  clay 

Cannot  be  gilt  by  millions.  All  the  spell 
I  practice  is  with  quiet  words  to  win 
Mankind  from  hell  without  to  joy  within. 
49 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXVII 

"  It 's  there,  you  know  :  vast  mines  of  pleasant  thought 

And  sunny  laughter,  turning  hell  to  rose. 
Do  you  believe  that  men  must  needs  be  bought 

To  recognize  the  ecstasy  in  those  ?  " 
Morgan  looked  curious.  "  I  should  say  you  ought 

To  live  in  a  better  world.  Some  day  —  who  knows  ? 
Meantime,  I  '11  show  you  just  a  thing  or  two, 
To  make  you  see  men  clearer  than  you  do. 

XXVIII 

"  To-morrow  there  's  a  meeting  in  the  park. 

Red  anarchists  hold  forth  on  blood  and  slaughter. 
Queer  creatures  they  as  ever  left  the  ark, 

With  dreams  to  make  yours  seem  like  milk  and  water. 
Come  with  me,  will  you  ?  "  "  Morgan,  please  remark, 

He  '11  talk  himself,"  said  Nancy.  "  Well,  my  daughter, 
I  '11  set  the  youth  much  higher  in  my  list 
Of  wonders,  if  he  out-talks  an  anarchist. 

XXIX 

"  Say,  will  you  come  ?  "  "  Of  course,"  was  the  reply. 

"Anarchist  or  idealist,  a  meeting 
Suits  me,  where  human  beings  multiply 

And  set  their  busy  thoughts  and  fancies  fleeting. 
As  for  my  own  talk,  don't  suppose  that  I 

Can't  give  the  dreams  of  others  proper  greeting, 
Or  that  I  hope  to  move  the  world  alone, 
Though  I  've  a  few  ideas  of  my  own." 

5O 


MORGAN 

XXX 

"  Why,"  Nancy  said,  "you'd  really  think  him  humble, 

A  modest,  mild  accommodating  creature, 
Until  you  heard  his  crazy  notions  tumble 

Out  of  his  mouth,  too  mad  for  even  a  preacher, 
A  wild,  disordered,  pointless,  jointless  jumble. 

Morgan,  some  day  he  '11  furnish  you  a  feature. 
Meantime,  I  'm  tired  of  such  a  madcap  midge. 
Come,  Morgan,  Jarvis,  Jessie,  let 's  play  bridge." 

XXXI 

They  played  their  bridge,  with  merriment  and  mocking, 
And  Jarvis  laughed,  and  Nancy  laughed,  and  Jess. 

And  Morgan  laughed  to  set  the  rafters  rocking, 
An  incarnation  of  fat  earthliness. 

Also  they  drank.  Now  do  not  think  it  shocking. 
The  world  still  drank.  But  these  not  to  excess, 

At  least  not  that  night.  Percival  drank  but  little, 

Being  mainly  temperate  in  drink  and  victual. 

XXXII 

Meantime  he  watched  their  bridge  and  heard  their  chatter. 

He  knew  the  game  from  Theodora's  days. 
But  he  preferred  more  spiritual  matter 

Than  cards,  at  any  rate  to  Morgan's  ways. 
And  soon  he  turned  aside  from  all  the  clatter 

To  the  piano.  I  shan't  stop  to  praise 
His  playing  or  his  singing.  But  his  soul 
Gleamed  through,  transfigured,  and  transformed  the  whole. 

51 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXXIII 

He  interwove  light  airs  with  graver  measures, 
Sang  songs  as  dainty  as  the  starlight's  gleam, 

From  unknown  depths  drew  unsuspected  treasures, 
And  made  a  jewel  of  a  common  theme, 

Till  even  Morgan  left  his  baser  pleasures, 
Laid  down  his  cards  and  listened  in  a  dream. 

"  More,  more,"  he  murmured.  Percival  sang  on, 

Till  the  new  day  enjoined  them  to  be  gone. 

XXXIV 

So  Morgan,  when  he  thought  the  matter  over, 

Found  this  young  wayward  creature  worth  his  study, 

Though  hitherto  he  had  not  been  a  lover 

Of  freaks  or  cranks,  who  recommended  bloody 

Or  rosy  means  to  make  the  world  recover 
From  all  its  ills.  Mistrusting  everybody, 

He  yet  felt  curious  to  follow  through 

This  thing  of  dreams  and  see  what  he  would  do. 

XXXV 

Therefore  next  day  they  started  forth  together 
Parkward,  and  chatted  idly  as  they  went. 

But  even  chatting  idly  on  the  weather, 

Morgan  could  gauge  his  young  friend's  sentiment, 

And  Percival  was  moved  to  wonder  whether 
This  animal  being  was  so  wholly  bent, 

As  might  have  seemed  at  first,  on  sleep  and  liquor. 

For  gleams  of  thought  and  love  began  to  flicker 
52 


MORGAN 

XXXVI 

And  make  the  gross  mass  something  more  than  clay. 

They  were  a  singular  pair,  one  all  ethereal, 
Drinking  bright  draughts  from  some  diviner  day, 

The  other  quite  essentially  material, 
Yet  realizing  in  a  certain  way 

Just  what  the  prophet  preached  of  dreams  aerial. 
Morgan  himself  proclaimed  the  fact  with  joy : 
"I  ?m  just  your  doctrine  in  the  flesh,  my  boy. 

XXXVII 

"  You  think  that  men  should  turn  all  life  to  comic 

Appreciation  of  the  joy  of  things. 
I  do.  My  joys  are  sometimes  gastronomic, 

But  then  at  other  times  my  soul  takes  wings 
And  flutters  airy  as  a  mote  atomic. 

It  laughs  gross  laughter,  but  it  also  sings. 
Just  look  me  over,  prophet,  am  not  I 
The  creature  of  your  reveries  ?  If  not,  why  ? " 

"  XXXVIII 

But  Percival  could  not  be  nonplussed  so. 

"  You  may  be.  In  the  realm  of  joy  are  many 
Strange  shapes,  and  you  may  be  among  them,  though 

It  would  enlarge  the  singular  miscellany." 
By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  motley  show 

They  came  to  see.  "  If  there  were  ever  any 
Creatures  adapted  to  your  lofty  sphere," 
Said  Morgan,  "  I  should  think  you  'd  find  them  here." 
53 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXXIX 

A  wayward  rout  it  was  to  listen  and  speak. 

The  hearers  were  a  shifting,  mingled  crew, 
Some  idly  anxious  to  observe  a  freak, 

Some  madly  earnest  for  ideas  new, 
Some  poor,  starved,  ragged,  wretched,  mad  to  wreak 

Their  wrath  upon  the  comfortable  few. 
The  orators  were  various  as  the  flock, 
Expert  to  rage  or  reason,  howl  or  mock. 

XL 

One  was  long-haired,  cadaverous,  and  lean, 
One  was  a  trim,  well-barbered  politician, 

Too  spicy  for  the  regular  machine. 
Also  there  was  a  spectacled  patrician, 

Editor  or  professor.  And  between, 

Two  women  screamed  tirades  about  their  mission. 

They  all  had  different  forms  of  wasting  breath, 

But  all  agreed  in  wanting  blood  and  death. 

XLI 

Long-haired  and  short  in  this  were  quite  unanimous, 
And  stern  and  gentle  sex  and  every  creed 

United  in  the  same  benignant  animus : 
Whate'er  befell,  the  capitalist  must  bleed. 

If  working  men  were  not  so  pusillanimous, 
The  world  would  be  a  better  world  indeed. 

"  You  hear,"  said  Morgan.  "  These  are  all  your  fellows, 

All  blowing  at  the  same  ideal  bellows." 

54 


MORGAN 

XLII 

Percival  heard,  heard  long  and  with  attention, 
Heard  all  the  hatred,  bitterness,  and  gall, 

Vituperation  with  but  scant  invention, 

In  which  the  wrath  was  great  and  wit  but  small. 

Then,  much  too  quick  for  Morgan's  apprehension, 
He  stepped  upon  the  stand  before  them  all, 

A  lithe,  bright  face  and  figure,  quite  celestial, 

Fronting  that  throng  half  ludicrous,  half  bestial. 

XLIII 

He  spoke  to  them  of  dreams  and  things  remote, 
Yet  less  remote  than  all  their  frenzy  cruel, 

Made  sweet  contentment  in  a  vision  float 

Across  wrath's  lurid  sky,  like  some  starred  jewel, 

Dwelt  amply  on  the  splendors  that  denote 
A  soul  fed  full  with  joy's  ecstatic  fuel. 

And  what  he  said  wrought  less  with  those  who  heard 

Than  just  the  glory  of  each  golden  word. 

XLIV 

Some  listened  with  delight,  some  with  confusion, 
Some  with  amazement,  some  with  vague  regret, 

Some  murmured  at  his  insolent  intrusion, 
Some  pressed  to  hear  him  closer,  closer  yet. 

The  agitators  gathered  in  collusion 

To  frown  or  drown  him  out.  But  ere  they  met 

With  any  scheme  that  could  be  aptly  tried, 

He  ceased,  and  slipped  away  at  Morgan's  side. 
55 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XLV 
"Good  God,"  said  Morgan,  "what  a  gift  of  gab! 

There 's  money  in  your  talk,  if  you  but  knew  it." 
"  Money  ?  "  said  Percival.  "  Money.  You  would  grab, 

Like  any  one  else,  if  you  were  driven  to  it. 
By  the  way,  what  do  you  live  on  ?  I  '11  not  blab, 

If  there  's  a  secret.  Does  your  father  do  it  ? 
But  Jarvis  said,  I  think,  you  'd  run  away, 
To  prophesy  your  coming,  glorious  day." 

XLVI 
"  Money  ?  My  father  ? "  was  the  vague  reply. 

"  Oh,  Jarvis  lends  me  money.  He  '11  be  paid." 
"H'm,"  murmured  Morgan.   "The  security 

Is  rather  insubstantial,  I  'm  afraid. 
See  here,  young  man,  you  take  advice  from  me. 

Go  home.  Enjoy  your  millions.  You  were  made 
To  honey  out  your  butterfly  existence 
With  all  the  facts  of  life  at  dreaming  distance." 

XLVII 

But  Percival  laughed,  a  soft,  compelling  laugh, 
Took  Morgan's  arm  with  sweet  familiarity, 

Murmured  insinuating  phrases,  half 

Mad  earnest,  which  atoned  for  lack  of  clarity, 

And  the  remainder  a  delicious  chaff, 

Which  more  appealed  to  Morgan  by  its  rarity. 

"Be  my  disciple,  preach  my  doctrine,  come." 

Morgan  returned  intoxicated  home. 
56 


MORGAN 

XLVIII 

He  thought  of  it,  he  dreamed  of  it  all  night, 

In  intervals  of  stabbing  reputations. 
Next  evening  he  strolled  round  to  Jessie's,  quite 

Athirst  for  more  prophetic  fascinations. 
There  he  found  Jessie  alone  at  first.  The  sight 

Revived  some  intimate  associations. 
He  took  a  chair  beside  her  and  began 
The  love-speech  which  must  be  as  old  as  man. 

XLIX 
For  all  his  gross,  fat  figure,  he  could  be 

Agreeable,  delightful,  if  he  chose, 
Could  breathe  a  wooing  murmur  daintily, 

And  flush  a  warm  cheek  with  a  shade  of  rose, 
As  if  he  were  a  lad  of  twenty-three. 

He  tried  it  now.  But  Jessie  quickly  froze 
His  ardor  and  his  amorous  words  withstood. 
"  Stop  it,"  she  said.  "  I  am  not  in  the  mood." 

L 

"  Not  in  the  mood,"  laughed  Morgan,  drawing  back, 
With  youth's  disgust  and  age's  comprehension. 

"  I  understand  it  all.  Though  what  I  lack 
In  soul  I  balance  amply  in  dimension, 

My  weight  cannot  soar  up  a  prophet's  track, 
And  what  you  want  is  heavenly  ascension. 

Oh,  Jess,  you  loved  me  once;  but  now  my  joy 

Is  all  devoured  by  this  celestial  boy. 

57 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LI 

"  And  the  worst  is,  he  '11  never  care  for  you." 
"I  know  it,  oh,  I  know  it,"  Jessie  wailed. 

u  Morgan,  I  Jm  in  despair.  What  shall  I  do  ? 
I  've  tried  my  best  to  win  him,  but  I  've  failed. 

He  loves  me —  and  ten  thousand  others  too. 
In  his  own  world  he  wanders,  unassailed 

By  love  or  hate.  Oh,  Morgan,  is  n't  he  splendid  ? " 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  Morgan.  Then  at  once  attended 

LII 

To  more  immediate  matters.  "Jess,  forget  him. 

Such  spirit  wraiths  as  he  are  not  for  use. 
You  '11  only  sorrow  that  you  ever  met  him, 

A  creature  with  no  drop  of  human  juice." 
So  Morgan  comforted,  and  Jessie  let  him 

Even  caress.  Perhaps  she  grew  obtuse 
Under  woe's  weight.  Howe'er  this  may  have  been, 
The  others  stormed  in  on  a  tender  scene. 

LIII 

Nancy  and  Jarvis  were  convulsed  with  glee. 

But  Percival  showed  unlimited  disgust. 
"  Jessie,"  he  said,  "  I  'd  taken  you  to  be 

A  thing  of  air  and  dreams  that  I  could  trust 
With  all  my  highest  hopes.  But  now  I  see 

That  confidence  in  man  is  built  on  dust, 
And  confidence  in  woman  built  on  — nay, 
You  make  me  blush,  I  should  not  dare  to  say." 
58 


MORGAN 

LIV 

"  You  blush ! "  cried  Nancy,  "  and  not  dare  to  say !  " 
She  laughed  the  more,  and  Morgan's  bellow  joined  her. 

"  Oh,  prophet,  are  you  touched  the  usual  way, 
When  jilted,  quick  at  jealousy's  rejoinder? 

Ready  to  throw  a  pretty  girl  away, 

Yet  angry  if  another  man  purloined  her  ? 

Come,  prophet,  life  's  too  full  of  queer  abysses 

For  any  one  to  grudge  a  few  snatched  kisses. 

LV 

"Practice  the  joy  you  preach."  And  Percival  did. 

They  all  grew  merrier  with  the  evening's  glory. 
Victrola  first.  But  Percival  soon  hid 

The  bulk  of  its  monotonous  repertory. 
Then  Jessie  sang  and  Jarvis.  Morgan  outdid 

Their  vocal  magic  with  his  wildest  story, 
Till  Percival  at  last  sat  down  and  played 
Things  beyond  human  thought,  as  Morgan  said. 

LVI 

The  things  were  not  so  wondrous  in  themselves ; 

But  something  in  his  touch  or  manner  made  them 
Bewitching  as  the  dance  of  forest  elves. 

And  bits  of  verse  went  with  them,  as  he  played  them, 
Which  pulled  down  tangled  memories  from  shelves 

Where  you  believed  you  had  forever  laid  them, 
Memories  that  set  your  deepest  pulses  throbbing 
Alternately  with  laughter  and  with  sobbing. 

59 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LVII 

They  listened,  all  of  them,  in  ecstasy, 

Till  he  stopped  short  and  cried,  u  Now  let 's  play  cards.' 
<4  Cards,"  murmured  Morgan.  u  Child  of  revery, 

Cold  moonshine,  or  intoxicated  bards, 
What  do  you  know  of  cards  ?  "  "Gross  parody 

Of  human  joy,  whose  corpulence  retards 
The  coming  kingdom  of  delight  on  earth, 
I  '11  show  you  what  I  know,  for  all  my  birth." 

LVIII 
"Get  out  the  pack."  They  got  it.  "Get  drinks  too." 

They  got  them,  and  they  drank  them.  Percival  held 
A  hand  with  Jess.  But  what  he  dared  to  do 

Made  Jess  afraid,  till  finally  she  rebelled. 
"As  gambler  I  'm  not  in  the  class  with  you." 

And  certainly  his  style  of  play  dispelled 
All  thought  of  him  as  a  timid,  airy  creature. 
Or,  for  the  time,  he  had  forgot  his  nature. 

LIX 
He  took  wild  chances,  made  enormous  bets, 

Seemed  to  delight  in  pushing  Morgan  hard. 
The  anxious  Jarvis  said,  "  You  know  your  debts  ?  " 

u  Debts  ?  "  shouted  Percival.  "  Who  would  dare  regard 
A  few  poor  dollars  as  worth  a  man's  regrets  ? 

I  '11  pay  all."  Morgan,  who  observed  each  card, 
Believed  he  would,  and  played  his  game  so  keenly, 
By  two  o'clock  he  'd  plucked  the  prophet  cleanly. 

60 


MORGAN 

LX 

Then  Percival  rose  and  left  them,  all  at  once, 

Not  drunk,  not  mad,  but  surely  not  quite  normal. 

"  Come  back,  old  man,"  cried  Jarvis.   u  Don't  be  a  dunce," 
Laughed  Nancy,  frolic  in  her  ways,  not  formal. 

"  Let  him  go  find  the  airy  game  he  hunts ; 
For  me  he 's  just  a  little  too  abnormal," 

Said  Morgan.,  "  But,"  moaned  Jarvis,  "  I  'm  stone  broke." 

"The  father '11  pay."  So  Morgan  blandly  spoke. 

LXI 

Meantime  the  prophet  cooled  his  frantic  fever 
Out  in  the  park  alone.  The  night  was  soft. 

Forgetfully  he  watched  the  bright  moon  weave  her 
Exquisite  tracery  in  the  elms  aloft, 

Once  asked  himself  if  Jessie  could  deceive  her 
Frail  heart  with  such  gross  diet  very  oft; 

Then  to  a  quiet  bench  quietly  crept, 

Yawned,  shut  his  eyes,  composed  himself,  and  slept. 

LXII 
When  he  awoke,  he  felt  the  morning  chill, 

But  merely  as  a  bath  to  rouse  his  spirits. 
His  splendid,  healthy,  joyous,  vigorous  will 

Knew  not  the  damp  the  broken-nerved  inherits. 
If  any  thought  of  last  night's  riot  still 

Hung  round  him,  it  was  lost  in  life's  fresh  merits. 
He  shook  himself  and  started  for  a  stroll, 
With  breakfast  as  a  tantalizing  goal. 

61 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXIII 

He  had  just  money  to  supply  his  needs, 

Small  change  the  gambling  fever  did  not  touch. 

He  ate,  and  felt  the  comfort  eating  breeds. 

Meanwhile  the  future  did  not  haunt  him  much. 

His  was  the  vagrant  truancy  which  leads 
Aerial  souls,  too  often  misleads  such. 

After  his  breakfast,  a  long  walk  seemed  pleasant. 

He  would  not  go  near  Jarvis  for  the  present. 

LXIV 

He  wandered  idly  through  the  busy  city, 

Gazed  at  the  shops,  and  found  them  fascinating 

As  when  he  saw  them  first.  Things  new  and  pretty 
Tickled  his  fancy,  as  at  man's  creating, 

With  a  large  wonder.  Corresponding  pity 

He  felt  for  brows  darkened  by  greed  or  hating. 

Life  should  be  merry,  he  thought,  and  gay  as  he, 

With  inexhaustible  felicity. 

LXV 

So  gazing,  and  so  thinking,  and  so  'strolling, 
When  he  had  paused  a  moment  or  two  before  a 

Rich  rainbow  dream  of  silk,  slowly  unrolling, 
He  turned  and  ran  into  Miss  Theodora. 

Beside  her  walked  the  stern,  austere,  controlling 
Figure  of  father  Smith,  whose  visage  wore  a 

Delightful  mixture  of  reproof  and  joy, 

When  he  beheld  his  long-lost,  vagrant  boy. 
62 


MORGAN 

LXVI 
"Oh,  cousin,"  cried  Miss  Perkins,  "  found  at  last." 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  Percival.  "  How  are  you,  father  ? 
They  shook  hands  calmly.  "  Come,  don't  stand  aghast, 

Miss  Theodora,"  cried  the  prophet.  "  Rather 
Imitate  him,  and  let  the  past  be  past. 

Later  we  '11  tell  long  tales  to  one  another 
Over  the  winter  fire.  Now  you  've  come, 
I  feel  a  sudden  longing  to  go  home." 

LXVII 

So  home  they  went.  What  Percival 's  father  said 
This  history  is  not  called  upon  to  show. 

There  was  some  mention  of  his  mother  dead, 
Which  Percival  received  with  moderate  woe, 

Some  grave  suggestion  of  where  folly  led, 
And  where  the  unregenerate  ought  to  go. 

But  Theodora  kept  these  hints  in  measure. 

She  was  enchanted  to  have  found  her  treasure. 

LXVIII 

She  went  home  with  them  and  for  quite  a  while 

Percival  was  exceedingly  amused. 
He  showed  her  all  his  old  haunts,  made  her  smile 

At  tricks  and  quaint  devices  he  had  used. 
She  faintly  hoped  his  wanderings  might  beguile 

His  heart  back  to  the  comfort  he  refused. 
But  casual  hints  of  Jarvis,  Morgan,  Jess, 
By  no  means  added  to  her  cheerfulness. 

63 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXIX 
On  one  or  two  occasions  father  Smith 

Attempted  some  brief  comment  or  reproof. 
For  all  he  gained,  he  might  have  argued  with 

The  wind,  or  held  entirely  aloof. 
But  Theodora  undermined  the  pith 

Of  his  resentment,  said  the  natal  roof 
Was  much  too  narrow  for  the  boy's  salvation, 
And  begged  him  not  to  smother  inspiration. 

LXX 

"  Oh,  his  salvation,"  mocked  the  millionaire, 
And  turned  again  to  piling  up  his  credit, 

With  intermittent  agonies  of  prayer  — 

A  pleasant  life  to  those  who  have  not  led  it. 

But  Theodora  lured  away  the  heir 

Once  more  to  visit  her.  "  Do  come,"  she  said,  u  it 

At  least  can  do  your  soul  no  harm  to  spend 

One  Christmas  with  your  cousin  and  your  friend." 

LXXI 

He  laughed  and  went.  She  did  her  very  best 
To  make  such  Christmas  sojourn  entertaining, 

Hoped  she  might  teach  his  eager  spirit  rest, 
Even  perhaps,  her  former  charm  regaining, 

Might  make  his  mission  seem  a  vanished  jest. 
She  gathered  friends  around  her,  all  sustaining 

Her  ardent  labors  by  discreet  variety, 

The  grace,  without  the  tedium  of  society 

64 


MORGAN 

LXXII 

Such  were  her  hopes,  and  Percival  at  first 

Responded  with  apparent  satisfaction. 
Indeed,  he  seemed  entirely  immersed 

In  her  successive  efforts  of  attraction. 
He  sang,  he  jested,  now  and  then  dispersed 

A  few  bright  words  of  missionary  action. 
Still,  with  the  flying  days,  she  planned  to  capture 
Once  more  his  wayward  soul,  and  planned  with  rapture* 

LXXIII 
Alas,  in  vain.  The  ancient  restlessness 

She  knew  so  well  declared  itself  too  soon, 
And  many  a  symptom  forced  her  to  confess, 

She  better  could  enthrall  the  wandering  moon. 
In  fact,  she  grew  quite  clear  that  neither  stress 

Parental,  plea  of  duty,  nor  of  boon, 
Could  make  that  child  of  quaint,  ethereal  mixture 
A  common,  everyday,  commercial  fixture. 

LXXIV 

Indeed,  as  she  beheld  the  subtle  twist 

Of  his  high  thought,  its  lofty  inspiration, 

She  felt  almost  unable  to  resist 

Herself  belief  in  his  divine  vocation. 

He  lived  in  such  a  glorious,  golden  mist, 
Poetic,  or  prophetic  fascination, 

It  sometimes  seemed  as  if  he  had  a  mission, 

And  would  irradiate  man's  debased  condition. 
65 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXV 

And  she  was  over  thirty  and  had  sense ! 

But  thus  it  was.   So  next  she  set  to  work, 
Not  to  irradiate  father  Smith  —  the  fence 

Of  thorny  habit  hedged  what  love  might  lurk 
In  him  too  closely  —  but  to  wring  some  pence, 

And  otherwise  prevail  on  him  to  shirk 
That  stern  repression  of  all  joy  and  beauty 
Which  he  regarded  as  parental  duty. 

LXXVI 

To  her  surprise  she  found  he  did  not  bite  her 

When  she  came  near  him,  but  instead  concurred, 

Although  his  language  might  have  been  politer. 
"  Your  notion,  Theodora,  is  absurd. 

The  boy  is  lost.  But,  poet  or  prize-fighter, 
I  shall  not  give  his  fate  another  word. 

Money  ?  Oh,  yes.  But,  got  with  such  facility, 

The  spending  will  be  your  responsibility." 

LXXVII 

And  so  they  parted.  Father  gave  to  son 
Hardly  a  farewell  handshake,  did  not  ask 

What  plans  he  had,  no  doubt  presuming  none, 
Which  was  correct.   "  Yet,  underneath  the  mask, 

Said  Theodora,  "  I  think  hardly  one 

Can  love  his  offspring  better."   "  Yours  the  task,' 

Said  Percival,  "  with  keen  eyes  to  discover 

Beneath  that  face  the  features  of  a  lover." 

66 


MORGAN 

LXXVIII 
But  Theodora's  farewell  was  more  tender. 

"  Oh,  child/'  she  cried,  "  why  will  you  face  the  world, 
The  world,  that  lavish  and  most  wanton  spender 

Of  graces  in  youth's  bud  divinely  furled  ? 
Why  seek,  with  substance  pitifully  slender, 

To  stay  the  tide,  which  has  so  often  whirled, 
In  its  vast  foam  and  hideous,  yeasty  frothing 
The  best  of  hope  and  love  and  fame  to  nothing  ? " 

LXXIX 

Percival  laughed.  "  Now,  why  are  you  so  tragic  ? 

My  motive,  after  all,  is  curiosity, 
And  monsters,  both  terrestrial  and  pelagic, 

Do  not  affect  me  with  such  animosity 
That  I  at  once  assail  them  with  the  magic 

Of  what  you  think  my  otiose  verbosity. 
Good  cousin  Theodora,  be  content." 
He  kissed  her  cousinly,  and  then  he  went. 

LXXX 

Just  where  he  went  or  why,  he  did  not  know, 

Nor  care.  The  subject  was  not  worth  his  pondering. 

The  world  was  an  exhaustless,  glittering  show, 

So  rich  in  charm  you  could  not  waste  by  squandering. 

But  after  vague  meanders  to  and  fro, 

He  found  his  feet,  in  customary  wandering, 

Somehow  or  other  on  the  mat  before 

The  old,  frequented  sill  of  Jarvis's  door. 

67 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXXI 

There  he  was  greeted  with  a  cry  ecstatic. 

In  fifteen  minutes  all  his  debts  were  paid 
And  he  was  settled  in  his  ancient  attic. 

All  friendly,  due  inquiries  were  made. 
Nancy,  if  possible,  was  less  lymphatic 

Than  ever.  Jess  had  mourned  him  to  a  shade. 
Morgan,  if  Percival  was  inclined  to  list  him 
Among  his  friends,  Morgan  had  really  missed  him. 

LXXXII 

So  the  old  life  began  anew :  some  riot, 

Immense  diversion  with  that  laughing  lot ; 

Yet  Percival,  content  with  simpler  diet, 
Oft  lingered  where  the  rioters  were  not, 

And  interwove  his  pleasant  thoughts  in  quiet. 
Then  plunged  again  in  dissipation  hot. 

But  when  the  throng  was  hottest,  he  was  cool, 

And  reveled  as  a  dreamer,  not  a  fool. 

LXXXIII 

He  mocked  with  Nancy,  he  romanced  with  Jess; 

Yet  neither  his  romancing  nor  his  mocking 
Was  carried  to  disorderly  excess. 

Not  that  he  really  found  such  conduct  shocking, 
But  he  preferred  a  certain  seemliness, 

Even  in  thoughts  that  set  the  wide  world  rocking. 
The  joy  he  preached  required  natural  health, 
And  could  not  be  purloined  by  sordid  stealth. 
68 


MORGAN 

LXXXIV 

But  nobody  considered  him  a  preacher, 

Or  spoil-sport,  or  wet-blanket,  or  cold  cynic. 

Far  otherwise.  To  all  he  seemed  a  teacher 
Of  new  delights.  Some  subtle  ray  actinic, 

As  Theodora  felt,  made  every  creature 

Light-hearted  through  his  presence.  In  what  clinic 

Do  they  dissect  this  art  of  making  glad  ? 

At  any  rate,  such  art  our  hero  had. 

LXXXV 

But  the  most  curious  spectacle  of  all 

Was  Morgan  and  his  singular  devotion. 

He  never  missed  the  slightest  chance  to  call 
Attention  to  each  wild,  fantastic  notion. 

He  mocked  the  prophet  and  foretold  his  fall 
Without  a  shadow  of  the  world's  commotion. 

And  yet  it  needed  little  skill  to  see, 

None  was  infatuated  more  than  he. 

LXXXVI 

A  long  experience  of  human  folly 

Made  him  at  once  alive  to  the  absurd. 
As  much  in  church  as  in  a  crowded  trolley 

The  sacred  was  to  him  an  unknown  word. 
High  thoughts  might  sometimes  make  him  melancholy, 

But  usually  a  laugh  was  all  they  stirred. 
Yet  now  he  found  a  novel  fascination 
In  Percival  and  his  lofty  aspiration. 
69 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXXVII 

It  was  not  certainly  the  dream  or  hope 
Of  anything  divine  about  his  mission. 

To  Morgan  men  were  ever  doomed  to  grope 
In  their  old,  pitiful,  forlorn  condition. 

But  something  in  the  splendid,  soaring  scope 
Of  Percival's  immense,  if  vague,  ambition, 

Or,  no,  just  contact  with  that  starry  soul, 

Gave  Morgan  thrills  he  could  not  quite  control. 

LXXXVIII 
I  cannot  tell.  He  could  not  tell.  He  felt 

The  same  strange  magic  Theodora  knew, 
Found  all  his  deepest  prejudices  melt 

In  a  delight  that  gradually  grew. 
The  ugly,  common  things  in  which  he  dealt 

So  much  by  trade,  the  horrors,  false  and  true, 
That  fed  his  thought,  took  on  a  dreamy  grace, 
When  mirrored  in  that  spiritual  face. 

LXXXIX 

And  so  he  sought  his  j^outhful  friend's  society 
By  day,  by  night,  and  followed  when  he  could, 

Or  even  came  to  lead,  having  variety 
Of  entertainment  in  his  gift,  some  good, 

Some  violating  all  precise  propriety. 

But  good  and  bad  alike  were  dainty  food 

For  the  immense  digestion  of  the  prophet, 

Who  touched  the  worst  and  thought  but  little  of  it. 
70 


MORGAN 

XG 

They  visited  the  theaters,  before, 

Likewise  behind,  the  mystery  of  the  curtain, 
Reveled  in  lovely  visions  that  all  wore 

The  garb  of  fact,  or  faced  facts  too,  too  certain. 
Some  nights  they  had  of  fairy  fancy,  more 

Enchanting  than  the  Arabian  (see  Burton). 
And  through  it  all  Percival  watched  the  dim 
Shade  of  his  treasured  hope.  Morgan  watched  him. 

XGI 

In  the  police  court,  or  the  public  ball, 

Or  auction,  now  and  then  the  prophet  tried 

A  word  or  two  of  preaching.  Through  it  all 
He  thought  men  left  real  joy  too  much  aside 

For  crude  delights  whose  benefits  were  small. 
But  Morgan  checked  him  gently,  did  not  chide, 

Diverted  his  attention  to  some  other 

Strange  feature  of  the  motley  human  smother. 

XCII 
Also,  he  cautioned :  "  Teach  them  by  example. 

Amuse  yourself  while  youth  and  pleasure  tempt. 
Provide  them  with  a  gayly-tinted  sample 

Of  joy,  from  fret  and  thought  and  care  exempt. 
Leave  preaching  to  philosophers  who  trample 

On  pleasantness,  unfed,  unwashed,  unkempt." 
Percival  listened,  just  the  one  to  find 
This  sunshine  system  greatly  to  his  mind. 

71 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XGIII 

One  day  it  happened  they  strolled  in  among 

A  group  of  actors  staging  for  a  reel. 
The  climax  of  their  story  had  been  wrung 

Out  of  a  masquerade,  a  giddy  wheel 
Of  strange,  diverting  figures,  old  and  young, 

In  mixed  costumes  of  riotous  appeal 
To  wayward  fancy,  skirt  and  sword  and  wig 
Involved  in  an  inextricable  jig. 

XGIV 
A  clown  coquetted  with  a  nun  demure. 

A  solemn  judge,  inveigled  by  the  ballet, 
Displayed  an  unjudicial  temperature. 

A  pirate,  wandering  from  his  lofty  galley, 
Grim  thoughts  forgot,  danced  idly  with  a  pure, 

White  lass  who  kept  sheep  in  a  shady  valley. 
"  The  world,"  said  Morgan.  "  You  would  fain  improve  it- 
For  me,  I  only  laugh  at  it  and  love  it." 

XGV 

And  all  this  tempest  of  disordered  mirth 

Was  simply  to  work  up  a  furious  scene, 
In  which  the  heroine,  wandering  o'er  the  earth 

To  find  her  lover,  who,  alas,  has  been 
A  lady-killer  from  his  flippant  birth, 

Tears  through  the  riot,  like  a  tragic  queen, 
And  makes  the  situation  clear  as  crystal 
By  killing  the  forlorn  swain  with  a  pistol. 

72 


MORGAN 

XCVI 

Somehow  or  other  the  police  ensued, 

With  more  costume  and  more  suggestion  gory, 

And  tumults  such  as  usually  intrude 

In  well-constructed  plots.  That 's  not  my  story. 

Among  this  aggregation,  bright  and  rude, 
Of  things  ephemeral  and  transitory 

I  merely  pick  the  heroine.  Or,  not  I, 

But  Percival,  and  I  will  tell  you  why. 

XGVII 

In  fact,  at  first  sight  few  but  would  have  picked  her 
Out  of  that  curious  and  motley  throng. 

And  fewer  would  have  envied  him  who  tricked  her, 
Or  wished  to  be  the  man  that  did  her  wrong. 

She  had  the  royal  carriage  of  a  victor, 

Wore  her  queen's  garb  as  if  it  might  belong 

To  her  by  right.  Not  Juno  was  more  stately, 

When  she  had  left  Jove's  company  but  lately. 

XCVIII 

Indeed,  she  is  my  heroine  as  well 
As  that  of  a  forgotten,  passing  show, 

Or  one  of  them,  since  I  can  hardly  tell 
The  number  of  that  fascinating  row ; 

But  she  is  first  and  best,  and  bears  the  bell. 
If  I  could  only  make  the  wide  world  know 

The  earnest  beauty  of  her  lofty  spirit ! 

But  my  imperfect  words  cannot  come  near  it, 
73 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XCIX 

If  I  could  but  portray  her  as  I  first 

Beheld  her,  in  her  days  of  youthful  splendor : 

The  deep,  dark  eyes  that  in  their  gaze  dispersed 
A  radiance  as  passionate  as  tender; 

The  mobile  mouth  that  always  seemed  athirst 
For  love,  yet  equally  alert  to  send  her 

Quick,  soaring  thoughts  abroad;  the  vivid  gesture 

That  merely  gave  the  soul  the  body's  vesture; 

G 

The  movement  of  her  agile,  supple  form, 

Tall,  serpentine,  and  yet  with  grace  commanding 

In  vigor  that  overcame  you  like  a  storm. 
But  most  of  all  I  see  those  eyes,  expanding 

In  eager  joy,  or  stern  and  cold,  or  warm 

With  passionate  delight.  —  The  eyes,  as  standing 

In  deep  thought  lost,  she  saw  the  crowd,  unseeing, 

Thrilled  Percival  through  his  whole  prophetic  being. 

CI 

He  forgot  Morgan,  he  forgot'the  show, 
Forgot  the  common  usage  of  propriety, 

Walked  right  up  to  the  lady  and  said,  "  Oh, 
Why  are  you  lost  in  this  profane  society  ? 

This  noisy  crew  ?   Such  eyes  as  yours,  I  know, 
Rove  widely  seeking  for  all  life's  variety. 

Yet,  I  believe,  to  you  this  din  is  shocking, 

To  me  mere  mirth,  to  you  a  casual  mocking." 
74 


MORGAN 

CII 

And  she  was  large  enough  to  catch  his  tone, 

To  apprehend  his  nature  in  a  second. 
She  had  lived  all  her  inward  life  alone, 

Had  left  response  of  other  souls  unreckoned, 
Secluded  on  an  intellectual  throne. 

But  something  in  this  stranger's  accent  beckoned, 
Teased,  tantalized  her  with  perplexing  question, 
Some  hidden,  indefinable  suggestion. 

GUI 

She  answered  him  as  if  they  had  been  friends 
From  their  remote  conception  in  eternity, 

With  shadows  of  that  softness  that  transcends 
The  call  of  sex  in  an  immense  maternity. 

Right  then  and  there  he  hinted  at  his  ends 

In  life,  and  she,  all  throbbing  with  modernity, 

Found  her  own  deepest  impulses  unfurled, 

When  she  perceived  he  would  reform  the  world. 

CIV 

For  she  too  had  her  aspirations  vast 

And  vague  desires  for  making  all  things  new. 

She  had  but  little  knowledge  of  the  past, 
But  a  dim  comprehension  of  the  true, 

Slow,  growth  of  innovations  that  may  last ; 
Yet  through  her  open,  fiery  heart  there  blet 

Strange  winds  of  hope  that  man  some  day  might  be, 

As  she  would  wish,  strong,  beautiful,  and  free. 
75 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

CV 

Nursing  such  thoughts,  she  went  about  her  work 

With  daily  ardor;  as,  in  all  she  did, 
An  overwhelming  passion  seemed  to  lurk 

Beneath  the  opulently  shadowed  lid, 
And  drove  each  gesture  homeward  like  a  dirk. 

Yet,  still,  for  all  her  zeal,  she  moved  amid 
That  dancing  throng  the  phantom  of  a  dream, 
Known  only  for  the  thing  she  chose  to  seem. 

CVI 

But  Percival  pierced  seeming.  "  What 's  your  name  ?  " 
"My  name? "  she  laughed.  "Aurelia  McGoggin. 

It 's  not  romantic.  The  truth  is,  I  came 

From  the  backwoods,  the  upper  Androscoggin, 

Illiterate,  my  father  was  the  same. 

He  earned  a  humble  livelihood  by  loggin'. 

And  all  the  strange  adventures  I  've  been  through 

Would  make  a  million  movie  reels.  But  you  ? " 

CVII 

Percival  told  her  what  he  was  and  told 

The  ample  current  of  his  wandering  mission, 

Told  her  — .  In  short,  before  the  moon  was  old, 
They  had  compared  the  height  of  their  ambition. 

Long  hours  they  passed  together,  hours  of  gold, 
In  which  they  changed  to  gold  the  base  condition 

Of  sordid  men  about  them.  And  so  zealous 

Was  their  new  friendship,  Morgan  grew  quite  jealous. 
76 


MORGAN 

CVIII 
Friendship,  I  say.  I  should  not  dare  say,  love, 

Though  many  did.  They  both  disclaimed  the  feeling. 
Their  intimacy  soared  too  far  above 

The  lower  links  of  earth.  "  Humph  !    On  the  ceiling 
You  walk,"  said  Morgan.  "  I  on  floors.  The  dove 

Of  your  white  thoughts  may  finish  by  revealing 
Just  common  flesh  and  blood  like  mine,  no  more." 
So  Morgan  said,  and  jabbed  his  pen,  and  swore. 

CIX 

Meantime,  through  all  their  high  dreams'  harmony 
They  felt,  themselves,  a  palpable  divergence, 

Such  as,  we  must  admit,  will  always  be 

Among  the  world's  most  radical  insurgents. 

Aurelia  built  a  cloudy  mystery 

With  her  divine  and  overwhelming  urgence. 

How  these  wild  hopes  might  come  to  be  made  good 

She  could  not  say,  but  she  knew  some  that  could. 

CX 

In  all,  however,  she  was  deadly  serious, 

No  single  ray  of  laughter  touched  her  soul. 

Percival  lectured  her  with  words  imperious. 

"  Hate,  wrath,  and  violence  cannot  hit  the  goal," 

He  said.  u  Love,  laughter,  with  their  touch  mysterious 
Must  softly,  gently  permeate  the  whole 

Wide  world,  if  you  would  come  to  see  mankind 

Transmuted  to  the  vision  you  Ve  in  mind." 

77 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

CXI 

"Laughter!  "  she  raged.  It  almost  bred  a  quarrel. 

Yet  still  she  loved  her  prophet  more  and  more, 
And  would  have  gladly  crowned  his  brow  with  laurel, 

But  thought  much  braver  youth's  bright  crown  he  wore. 
He  also  was  exalted  by  the  moral 

Of  her  high  rapture  higher  than  before ; 
So  that  he  cut  extraordinary  capers, 
Which  Morgan  often  mentioned  in  the  papers, 

CXII 

Mentioned  with  tenderness  as  well  as  mocked. 

"  This  millionaire,"  he  said,  "  has  some  idea 
Of  things  at  which  the  Philistines  are  shocked, 

As  if  a  message  came  from  Cassiopeia. 
But  some  day,  when  the  fellow  has  unlocked 

His  ample  brain,  the  consequence  will  be  a 
Rare  bombshell,  which  will  stir  the  nauseous  unity 
Of  this  much  over-civilized  community." 

CXIII 

And  people  read  and  wondered  and  forgot.  — 

One  day  they  visited  a  movie  show, 
Aurelia  always  eager  for  a  plot, 

Percival  following  where  she  chose  to  go, 
And  welcome,  even  behind  the  scenes,  for  not 

A  few  knew  now  his  name  and  wished  to  know 
His  face.  On  this  occasion,  between  reels, 
He  asked  to  speak,  and,  when  with  his  appeals, 

78 


MORGAN 

CXIV 

Aurelia  joined,  the  manager  agreed, 

Told  who  he  was,  withdrew,  and  said,  "  What  next? 
Percival  let  him  see.  The  gorgeous  screed 

He  poured  forth  left  no  restless  hearer  vexed. 
He  gave  them  all  his  cloudspun,  rainbow  creed 

Of  life  made  joy  by  laughter;  but  the  text 
Was  nothing,  the  embellishment  was  all 
And  held  those  gapers  under  magic  thrall. 

CXV 

It  was  not  merely  the  swift  words  he  uttered, 
Of  misery  transformed  right  here  and  now, 

And  songs  blown  broadly  out  of  curses  muttered, 
Although  the  words,  like  stars,  shot  high  and  low. 

It  was  the  glorious  radiance  which  fluttered 
Across  his  face  and  burned  about  his  brow, 

That  glory  and  that  gleam  sufficed  to  capture 

The  common,  listless  throng  ^in  one  wide  rapture. 

CXVI 

Some  wept,  some  laughed,  some  begged  him  to  go  on. 

Some  madly  cheered  and  some  were  strangely  quiet. 
But  when  they  realized  that  he  had  gone, 

They  almost  threatened  to  begin  a  riot. 
As  for  the  manager,  how  the  thing  was  done 

He  could  not  guess,  but  knew  he  liked  the  diet, 
Besought  a  booking  for  another  day. 
Percival  only  laughed  and  turned  away. 


BOOK  III 
AURELIA 

I 

winter  Jarvis's  wealthy  father  died, 
JL    Leaving  the  son  unlimited  possessions. 
Now  Jarvis  junior  really  had  both  pride 

And  brains,  for  all  his  amiable  transgressions. 
He  therefore,  for  the  moment,  brushed  aside 

His  old  companions  and  their  frolic  sessions, 
And  minded  business,  as  if  bonds  and  stocks 
Were  all  of  life,  in  spite  of  Morgan's  mocks. 

II 

But  when  the  April  light  grew  full  of  mirth, 
He  took  a  brief  vacation  and  invited 

All  his  mad  friends  to  taste  the  sunshine  earth 
And  pass  a  few,  sweet  merry  days,  united 

About  his  splendid,  hospitable  hearth. 

He  had  a  country  place  well  known  and  cited 

For  perfect  beauty  of  its  parked  seclusion, 

Far  from  the  press  of  citified  intrusion. 
80 


AURELIA 

III 

So  there,  upon  an  April  afternoon, 

Along  a  terrace  rich  with  budding  glory, 

Set  round  with  chattering  waves  that  dance  and  croon, 
Were  gathered  all  the  leaders  of  our  story : 

Percival  and  Aurelia  knit  so  soon 
By  an  affection,  sweet,  if  transitory, 

Aurelia Js  aunt,  companion,  chaperone, 

Or  by  whatever  name  she  might  be  known, 

IV 

A  gentle,  sleepy,  amiable,  mellow, 

Stout  lady,  who  embodied  all  propriety, 

Yet  cultivated  not  a  touch  of  yellow 

Or  sullen  spite  against  such  mad  society 

As  bumped  about  her  now  and  called  her  fellow. 
In  fact,  she  sleepily  enjoyed  variety, 

An  indolent  admirer  of  laughter, 

Without  the  slightest  thought  of  what  came  after. 

V 

Aunt  Millicent,  they  called  her.  Let  her  be. 

Morgan  was  there,  wildly  disposed  to  tease 
This  lady  with  his  boisterous  irony; 

And  there  was  Nancy,  frolic  as  you  please, 
Dazed  and  delighted  with  such  luxury, 

And  Jessie,  made  demure  by  so  much  ease ; 
While,  further,  a  new  face  you'll  find  to  fill 
Our  comic  catalogue,  that  of  Slippery  Bill. 
81 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
VI 

He  was  Aurelia's  brother,  movie  actor, 

A  genius,  though  some  said  he  was  not  right. 

At  any  rate,  his  most  confirmed  detractor 
Could  not  deny  his  charm  to  ear  and  sight : 

A  strange,  quaint  creature,  bound  to  be  a  factor 
In  any  web  of  innocent  delight, 

Blonde  haired,  blue  eyed,  lithe  limbed,  with  face  so  mobile, 

It  could  be  all  things,  from  grotesque  to  noble. 

VII 

A  motley,  many-colored  group  they  were, 

The  men  light-suited  with  bright  ties  and  socks, 

The  women  gleaming  in  a  rainbow  blur, 
Fairily  fitted  in  translucent  frocks, 

With  hats  to  set  a  sinner's  soul  astir, 

Laid  like  perched  birds  upon  their  dancing  locks. 

A  company  whose  every  word  and  gesture 

Were  richly  variegated  as  their  vesture. 

VIII 

So  on  the  terrace,  with  bewildering  chatter, 

They  daflfed  aside  the  lovely  April  day, 
Making  the  most  inconsequential  matter 

A  theme  for  dainty  jest  and  mockery  gay; 
And  now  and  then  amid  the  tinkling  patter 

Of  quip  and  laugh,  Bill  let  his  fancy  play, 
Like  piquant  hints  of  flavor  in  a  salad, 
With  snatches  from  some  old  forgotten  ballad. 

82 


AURELIA 

IX 

Finally,  at  a  pause,  if  ever  pause 

Came  in  that  tempest  of  tumultuous  glee, 
Percival  said,  "  Harry,  I  think  the  Cause 

Demands  the  burning  of  your  library." 
"My  what?  "  said  Jarvis.  But  discreet  applause 

Urged  on  the  prophet  to  cry  eagerly, 
"  Yes,  Harry,  yes.  For  the  most  cunning  hooks 
In  Satan's  hands  to-day  are  books,  books,  books. 

X 

"  The  world  is  overwhelmed,  smothered  with  books. 

We  all  are  ignorant  with  too  much  learning, 
And  piles  of  print,  heaped  up  in  spidery  nooks, 

Afflict  the  native  wit  of  the  discerning. 
The  place  for  books  is  in  the  running  brooks, 

Or  on  the  ash-heap,  dust  to  dust  returning. 
Congratulate  my  laudable  design." 
"  All  very  well,"  groaned  Harry.  "  But  why  burn  mine  ? " 

XI 

"  They  're  handsome,  and  they  cost  my  father  money. 

Nobody  ever  reads  them,  to  be  sure." 
Here  Morgan  intervened.  "  The  ceremony 

Is  that  old  Spanish  laugher's  who  would  cure 
His  hero's  book-bred  frenzy  by  it.  Sonny, 

Whatever  else  you  do,  you  can't  secure 
Renown  by  aping  others.  Let  your  tricks 
Be  new,  not  fetched  from  the  other  side  of  Styx." 

83 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XII 

"  Be  new  !  "  cried  Percival.  "  The  imputation 
Cannot  hurt  me.  For  I  myself  am  new 

And  give  my  own  delight's  re-incarnation, 
To  brighten  ancient  mirth  with  modern  hue. 

Wise  old  Cervantes  claims  our  imitation. 
And,  Harry,  soar  for  once.  These  petty  few 

Poor  books  of  yours,  once  fired,  may  serve  the  nimble 

Wit  of  the  world  for  an  immortal  symbol. 

XIII 

"  It  is  not  books  mankind  needs  now,  but  life. 

Too  long  the  mists  of  thought  have  kept  life  hidden, 
And  years  of  barren  intellectual  strife 

Have  made  joy  cower  like  an  infant  chidden. 
Few  starlike  books  were  well,  not  books  grown  rife 

As  hurrying  autumn  leaves,  till  man,  o'er-ridden, 
Finds  his  chill  veins  informed  with  murky  ink. 
The  soul  was  made  to  live  and  act,  not  think. 

XIV 

"  So,  Harry,  let  your  people  build  a  pyre 
And  fetch  the  dusty  authors  out  in  troops. 

Then  we  ourselves  to-night  will  feed  the  fire 
With  shadows  of  those  melancholy  dupes 

Who  mourned  in  black  and  white  their  pale  desire. 
Seldom  have  they  illuminated  groups 

Of  drowsy  toilers  with  so  bright  a  ray 

As  they  will  shed  on  our  immortal  play." 
84 


AURELIA 

XV 

He  said  it,  and  they  did  it,  and  the  stars 

Beheld  them  gathered  round  old  wisdom  flaming. 

Not  often  had  so  much  wit  burst  its  bars 
And  soared  beyond  all  systematic  taming, 

While  furious  disputants  forgot  their  jars 

And  found  their  heterodoxies  scarce  worth  naming, 

When  once  their  gilt  and  ponderous  coats  were  crackling. 

Meantime  the  prophet  more  and  more  kept  tackling. 

XVI 

u  Throw  history  on,"  he  said,  "  and  throw  on  fiction; 

Dream  of  what  might  be  spoils  the  joy  that  is. 
Throw  on  philosophy.  Its  false  conviction 

Makes  men  forget  superb  realities. 
Throw  science  on.  It  breeds  eternal  friction, 

Quarrels  and  feuds  and  personalities. 
Throw  tactics  on,  strategics,  and  logistics, 
And  —  carefully,  they'll  blaze  too  high  —  statistics. 

XVII 

"  Pile  on  the  law  and  do  not  spare  theology, 
Nor  medical  treatises,  out  of  date  when  new. 

But  what  are  these  ?  "  Jarvis  made  some  apology. 
"  Rare  books  and  costly  books  ?  Yes,  quite  a  few. 

Well,  let  them  join  the  general  necrology. 

Only  the  sacred  poets  we  '11  spare."  "  Not  you," 

Cried  Jarvis,  grown  decidedly  indignant. 

He  threw  them  on,  with  gesture  mock-malignant. 

85 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XVIII 

And  then  they  danced  about  the  splendid  blaze, 
Which  soared  and  roared  with  intellectual  fuel, 

Or  glowed,  to  their  entranced,  enraptured  gaze, 
In  spangled  gleams,  like  an  imperial  jewel. 

Particularly  Bill,  with  quaint,  wild  ways, 

Although  he  thought  their  burning  poets  too  cruel, 

Impelled  and  urged  them  on  to  actions  antic, 

Until  Aunt  Millicent  believed  him  frantic. 

XIX 

He  made  them  dance  till  weary,  then  alone 
He  danced  on  still,  the  mad  Victrola  playing, 

Or,  as  he  danced,  he  sang,  in  piping  tone, 
Incomparable  melodies,  displaying 

The  oddest  wit.  Then,  quiet  as  a  stone, 

He  sat  apart,  as  if  the  world  were  graying, 

And  he  were  left,  a  solitary  mourner, 

To  watch  the  ruins  from  a  sheltered  corner. 

XX 

It  was  a  wild,  disordered,  charming  revel, 

And  all  the  days  they  stayed  were  filled  with  such, 

Although  the  prophet  bade  them  not  dishevel 
Joy's  delicate  grace  with  anything  too  much. 

The  purple  hours  flowed  onward  in  a  level 
Tide  of  delight  that  sorrow  could  not  touch. 

And  no  concealed  repining  or  resentment 

Came  to  disturb  their  infinite  contentment. 
86 


AURELIA 
XXI 

Sometimes  they  wandered  idly  on  the  lake, 

When  the  broad  April  sun  invited  boating, 
Whether  the  North  wind  made  the  bright  waves  break, 

Or  a  wide  calm  held  them  in  heaven  floating. 
And  after  sunshine  came  a  storm  to  make 

Contrasted  days  more  exquisite.  Devoting 
The  time  throughout  to  merriment  and  jollity, 
They  gave  to  sun  and  storm  divine  equality. 

XXII 

Aurelia  often  strayed  with  Percival 

And  talked  and  talked  in  effort  to  persuade  him. 
His  gentle  soul,  she  said,  his  love  for  all, 

His  universal  kindliness  betrayed  him. 
His  hopes,  she  said,  for  sterner  measures  call, 

And  crimes  must  be  washed  out  with  blood.  She  made  him 
First  smile  at  her,  then  gaze  at  her  in  sorrow 
For  such  a  cruel  vision  of  to-morrow. 

XXIII 

44  Aurelia,"  he  persisted,  "  never  man 

By  wrath  or  strife  or  bloodshed  was  made  better. 

Only  by  spiritual  process  can 

The  tethered  soul  shake  off  its  sordid  fetter. 

The  crimes  you  blame,  in  ignorance  began, 

Called  crimes  from  narrow  clinging  to  the  letter. 

Folly  and  ignorance  find  reincarnation 

At  length  by  love's  sweet  interpenetration. 

87 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXIV 

"  The  world  must  be  made  better  bit  by  bit, 
But  never  through  a  violent  cataclysm. 

And  Patience,  tenderly  anointing  it, 

Will  gain  her  ends  by  her  celestial  chrism." 

Aurelia  writhed.  "  You  spend  your  agile  wit 
Distorting  harsh  facts  in  a  rainbow  prism." 

So  through  the  dreaming  hours  they  debated. 

One  knew  he  loved,  the  other  thought  she  hated. 

XXV 

Meantime  the  rest  dwelt  in  a  cloud  of  laughter 
And  neither  cared  for  hating  nor  for  loving. 

They  filled  the  house  from  living-room  to  rafter 
With  flames  of  mirth  perpetually  moving. 

Morgan  and  Bill,  who  each  seemed  modeled  after 
*  One  phase  of  Percival's  spiritual  roving, 

Mocked,  sang,  and  lived  with  an  immortal  zest, 

As  if  to  renovate  the  world  by  jest. 

XXVI 

Morgan's  fat  wit  would  tell  a  common  story 
And  Bill  would  cap  it  with  a  dainty  catch. 

Jess  had  a  song  of  flavor  transitory 
And  Jarvis  a  swift  anecdote  to  match. 

Then  they  all  joined  to  mock  the  prophet's  glory 
With  any  happy  trick  device  could  snatch. 

Oh,  days !  oh,  days !  beyond  my  verse  to  measure. 

But  Percival  stopped  them  in  the  tide  of  pleasure. 
88 


AURELIA 

XXVII 

Just  because  no  one  tasted  it  so  keenly 

As  he,  he  wished  to  pause  before  excess. 
"  Come,  friends,"  he  said.  "We  have  enjoyed  serenely 

Delight  here.  Do  not  let  us  make  it  less 
By  lingering  till  ennui,  intruding  meanly, 

Has  dulled  the  exquisite  edge  of  happiness." 
"Ah,  bah!  "  growled  Morgan.  "Don't  be  always  preaching. 
Your  practice  spoils  the  flavor  of  your  teaching." 

XXVIII 

Thus  Morgan  grumbled.  Morgan  always  grumbled. 

Yet  somehow  Percival's  charm,  like  juice  of  poppy, 
Kept  Morgan's  willfulness  securely  humbled. 

Besides,  he  thought  him  admirable  copy, 
The  best,  indeed,  on  which  he  'd  ever  stumbled. 

But,  Jarvis,  too,  was  getting  full  of  shop.  He 
Longed  for  the  ticker,  eager  to  disturb 
The  monetary  madness  of  the  curb. 

XXIX 

So  motors  swept  them  cityward,  brown  and  merry.  — 
Now  Jess  still  worshiped  with  adoring  soul, 

Not  jealous  of  Aurelia,  oh,  not  very, 

Because  she  knew  her  hopeless,  starry  goal. 

Moreover,  she  was  grown  a  missionary, 

And  wished  her  prophet  to  receive  the  whole 

Immense  delight  of  her  new-found  reliance ; 

For  Jessie  was  a  votary  of  Science. 

89 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXX 

"  Yes,  Percival,  I  learned  it  first  from  you. 

And  Science  teaches  very  much  the  same, 
That  we  might  live  far  happier  than  we  do, 

If  care  and  fear  and  doubt  we  overcame. 
Come,  Percival,  now  let  us  take  you  to 

One  service,  it  will  touch  your  heart  with  flame. 
And  I  believe  that  in  the  Science  Church 
You'll  find  just  that  of  which  you  are  in  search." 

XXXI 

"  I  'm  not  in  search  of  anything,"  laughed  Percival. 

"  But,  come,  by  all  means  let  us  try  your  cult. 
A  creed  that  would  remove  the  bitter  curse  of  all 

Nature  by  drug,  or  prayer,  or  catapult, 
Interests  me.  You  know  I  'm  the  reverse  of  all 

Carpers  who  go  to  scoff  or  to  insult. 
Come,  lead  me  like  a  lamb  in  flowery  halter, 
To  edify  at  the  Christian  Science  altar." 

XXXII 

So  they  all  went,  with  Jessie  in  the  lead. 

And  even  Morgan  joined  to  make  a  quorum, 
And  never  showed  by  any  word  or  deed 

That  he  was  not  at  home  in  such  a  forum. 
Jarvis  and  Nance  gave  profitable  heed, 

And  also  Bill  behaved  with  huge  decorum. 
During  the  whole  his  manner  could  not  jostle 
The  comfort  of  the  most  devout  apostle. 
90 


AURELIA 
XXXIII 

As  for  the  prophet,  his  austere  attention 
Suggested  nothing  but  profound  respect. 

No  worshiper  of  grave,  inborn  convention 
Could  have  produced  a  more  devout  effect. 

In  fact,  his  attitude  of  comprehension 

Was  more  than  Jess  had  ventured  to  expect. 

"  With  what  delight,"  thought  she,  "I  should  behold 

Him  added  to  our  spiritual  fold." 

XXXIV 

But  when  the  services  were  quite  completed, 
He  gently  rose  and  took  his  turn  to  speak. 

The  audience,  already  half  unseated, 

Sat  down  again  and  wondered  what  this  meek, 

Insinuating  youth,  with  tone  not  heated 
And  exquisite  repose,  had  come  to  seek. 

Under  his  manner  courteous  and  bland 

He  soon  contrived  to  make  them  understand, 

XXXV 

He  said  he  had  been  greatly  interested 

And  much  approved  their  creed  of  elevating 

Man's  lot  above  the  sorrows  that  infested 
This  earthly  life,  all  of  his  own  creating. 

He  said  that  he  and  they  alike  detested 
The  morbid  attitude  forever  waiting 

For  some  expected  horror  to  descend 

Lost  in  anxieties  that  never  end. 

91 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
XXXVI 

"  The  mind  alone  makes  woe,"  he  cried,  "  you  're  right. 

The  mind  alone  can  also  give  us  joy, 
Can  dissipate  the  shadows  of  the  night 

And  scatter  all  vexations  that  annoy. 
Wrong  thoughts,  wrong  fancies  are  the  devil's  spite, 

And  these  your  noble  vision  can  destroy." 
So  far  they  heard  with  little  animosity. 
At  least  this  fair  youth  was  a  curiosity. 

XXXVII 

Then  he  went  on.  u  I  Ve  watched  you  now  some  time, 
And  you  deserve  thus  much  in  high  laudation. 

But  there  are  other  points  that  do  not  chime 
So  well  with  an  unstinted  approbation. 

Excessive  seriousness  is  not  a  crime, 
But  surely  it  demands  consideration. 

And  I  must  needs  inquire  of  you  imperiously 

Why  you  should  take  yourselves  so  very  seriously. 

XXXVIII 

"  You  take  your  clothes  so  seriously,  your  dress, 
Expending  thought  and  substance  on  your  raiment, 

Although  sometimes,  I  may  presume  to  guess, 
The  garb  is  substance  and  the  shadow  payment. 

Money  you  take  so  seriously,  success, 

That  some  might  wonder  what  the  things  you  say  meant. 

And  then  you  take  so  seriously  this  shoddy 

(As  you  esteem  it)  instrument,  the  body. 

92 


AURELIA 

XXXIX 

"  Life  is  a  dream,  so  far  I  hold  with  you, 
An  airy  thing,  phantasmal  and  fantastic. 

But,  if  it  be  a  dream,  ah,  dream  it  through 
Without  solemnity  ecclesiastic. 

Nor  purse  nor  hearse  is  worth  so  much  ado. 

Your  theory 's  good,  but  make  it  still  more  drastic. 

And  add  to  your  most  praiseworthy  experiment 

The  glow  of  inextinguishable  merriment." 

XL 

They  heard  him  with  surprise,  with  wrath,  with  doubt, 
They  heard  his  gibes  with  gibing  thoughts  to  match, 

And  every  one  looked  angrily  about. 

But  when  he  ceased,  and  they  could  fully  catch  him 

His  dubious  drift,  the  cry  of  "  Turn  him  out," 
Rose  to  a  roar,  "  and  do  it  with  dispatch." 

The  prophet  leisurely  their  stir  anticipated 

While  Bill  kept  whistling  low  a  ditty  dissipated. 

XLI 

Morgan,  meantime,  was  writing  up  the  scene, 
Sure  it  would  make  a  feature  for  his  daily. 

But  little  Jess,  who  felt  distinctly  mean, 

Followed  her  hero's  footsteps  rather  grayly. 

Her  hero  himself,  however,  strolled  serene, 

And  answered  all  her  moaned  objections  gayly : 

"  I  thought  a  word  of  mine  might  do  them  good. 

And  if  they  'd  had  the  ears  to  hear,  it  would." 
93 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XLII 

Aurelia  had  been  absent  from  this  feast, 
Partly  about  her  work  and  partly  busy 

With  all  the  human  hopes  that  never  ceased 
To  feed  her  brain  with  cogitation  dizzy. 

Jessie  informed  her  that  their  great  high  priest 

Was  turning  to  Christian  Science.   She  said,  "  Is  he  ? 

I  'm  glad  he  goes  where  folly 's  to  be  lashed." 

Poor  Jessie  wilted,  very  much  abashed. 

XLIII 

Aurelia,  hardly  noticing,  continued: 

"  I  '11  show  him  other  things  than  worlds  of  dreams, 
Fantastic  realms  of  contemplations  thin-hued 

And  reveries  tricked  out  with  pale  moonbeams. 
I  '11  bring  him  heart  to  heart  with  men  tough-sinewed, 

Whose  theory  of  living  is,  not  seems, 
Men  who  want  hard  fact  now.  Let  jests  come  after 
And  all  his  cloud  of  amiable  laughter." 

XLIV 
Poor  Jessie  sighed.  She  had  small  love  for  fact. 

But  her  intense  companion  had  forgot  her, 
A  creature  born  perpetually  to  act, 

With  no  desire  to  see  pale  shadows  totter. 
And  lately  she  had  managed  to  contract 

A  friendship  with  a  true,  ideal  plotter, 
Whose  breath  of  life  was  seeking  notoriety 
By  working  weal  —  and  damage  —  to  society » 
94 


AURELIA 

XLV 

This  man's  cognomen  was  Ezekiel  Waters. 

Others  he  may  have  had,  but  this  one  now. 
He  had  an  eye  prognosticating  slaughters, 

Which  burned  beneath  a  tight,  dogmatic  brow, 
Inspiring  many  spiritual  sons  and  daughters 

With  cruel,  bloody,  anti-bourgeois  vow. 
His  tongue  was  always  eager  to  rehearse 
Some  customary  socialistic  curse. 

XLVI 
He  also  had  a  preternatural  gift 

For  organizing  every  force  of  evil, 
Could  most  appear  determined  to  uplift, 

When  most  he  used  devices  of  the  devil, 
Alert  with  every  cunning  wile  and  shift 

To  make  his  dreams  of  sanguinary  revel, 
By  arguments  ingenious,  apt,  evasive, 
Seem  to  the  simple  splendidly  persuasive. 

XLVII 
I  have  no  doubt  that  he  was  self-deceived, 

And  really  thought  he  had  an  austere  mission. 
At  any  rate,  his  followers  so  believed, 

Regarding  him  without  the  least  suspicion. 
But  no  one  of  the  conquests  he  achieved 

Had  so  completely  satisfied  his  ambition, 
So  blended  the  triumphant  and  the  sweet, 
As  when  he  saw  Aurelia  at  his  feet. 

95 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XLVIII 

For  there  she  was,  not  out  of  love  for  him, 
But  just  because  he  realized  her  notion 

Of  a  millennium,  exquisite  but  dim, 

Which  filled  her  soul  with  an  immense  emotion. 

She  thought,  for  all  she  cared,  the  world  might  swim 
In  a  tempestuous,  ensanguined  ocean, 

If  she  might  see  her  royal  hopes  embark 

In  an  ideal,  imperishable  ark. 

XLIX 
She  lived  in  regions  of  vague  possibility, 

But  Waters  in  a  world  of  gross  reality. 
She  had  a  truly  feminine  facility 

For  overlooking  man's  innate  rascality; 
And  could  ascend  with  ravishing  agility 

Above  the  present's  sordid  externality. 
Therefore  the  agitator's  cunning  tropes 
To  her  seemed  pregnant  with  her  highest  hopes. 

L 

She  was  most  anxious  to  arrange  a  meeting 

Between  this  revolutionary  star 
And  Percival,  prophet  of  joy.  You  see,  her  heating 

And  fierce  desires  obscured  the  things  that  are, 
Or  she  would  scarce  have  hoped  a  friendly  greeting 

Between  the  dreams  of  peace  and  those  of  war. 
At  any  rate,  she  did  so.  And  they  met. 
That  you  and  I  were  not  there,  I  regret. 
96 


AURELIA 

LI 

But  Morgan  managed  to  be  there,  and  Bill, 
The  first  observing,  and  the  second  fiddling. 

At  least  he  was,  with  thoughtless,  careless  skill, 
Until  the  prophets  were  ready  for  their  riddling. 

And  I  believe  he  might  have  fiddled  still, 
His  interest  in  prophets  being  but  middling, 

If  he  had  not  got  notice  from  his  sister. 

He  loved  her  so,  he  never  could  resist  her. 

LII 

Aurelia  started  things:  "This  youth,"  she  said, 
"Believes  life  can  be  mended  without  trouble." 

Here  Percival  broke  in.  "  Interpreted 

By  you,  with  labor  half  and  pleasure  double, 

My  theories  might  easily  be  read. 

But  I  prefer  to  blow  my  own  soap-bubble." 

He  set  to  work,  his  fancies  strange  unraveling. 

To  follow  him  was  for  Waters  heavy  traveling. 

LIII 
He  drew  a  world  where  men  were  actuated 

No  more  by  envy,  but  by  gentleness, 
Where  manifold  enjoyments  were  created 

By  innocence  and  cares  did  not  distress. 
They  heard  him  with  delight,  as  Morgan  stated 

On  paper,  while  Bill  played  a  dream  caress. 
Even  Waters  listened,  soothed,  yet  unconvinced. 
And,  when  he  spoke,  his  phrases  were  not  minced. 

97 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LIV 

"All  freaks  and  fancies,  pretty  but  misleading. 

You  overlook  the  facts,  perhaps  not  know  them. 
The  misery,  the  sorrow,  millions  bleeding 

For  the  fat  few  who  trample  those  below  them, 
Age  upon  age  of  agony  succeeding, 

Unless  we  learn  our  foes  and  overthrow  them. 
In  all  your  dreams  have  you  considered  this  ?  " 
Bill  softly  clasped  his  bow  and  played  a  kiss. 

LV 

But  Percival  replied,  sedate,  serene, 

With  further  insubstantial,  rosy  vision. 

"  I  know  full  well  the  miseries  you  mean. 

Sorrow,  disease,  and  death,  and  hate's  derision, 

The  varied  tragedies  of  life's  mortal  scene, 
Cannot  be  cured  by  prophet  or  precisian, 

Nor  yet  by  bullet  or  bomb.  Both  rich  and  poor 

Still  find  disaster  waiting  at  their  door. 

LVI 

"  But  I  maintain  that  all  these  woes  the  mind 
Can,  if  not  cure,  enormously  alleviate, 

That  we  intensify  the  ills  we  find 

And  of  our  own  accord  too  often  deviate 

From  happiness,  by  fair  contentment  lined, 
To  sorrow  we  might  easily  abbreviate. 

Men  can  fly  fear  by  dreams,  as  you  know  well." 

"Hell !  "  Morgan  growled.  "  Particularly  hell. 
98 


AURELIA 

LVII 

"  Thought  makes  the  most  of  woes  and  thought  can  mend  them. 

He  who  can  rule  his  thoughts  can  conquer  death. 
External  troubles  fade,  if  we  transcend  them." 

But  Waters  interrupted.  "  Waste  of  breath. 
Such  theories  bear  no  fruit.  Their  grace  you  lend  them. 

Capital  cares  not  for  what  prophet  saith. 
Words,  words,  vague  words  how  many  have  sacrificed! " 
Bill  softly  murmured,  "  Even  the  words  of  Christ." 

LVIII 
But  Christ  to  Waters  was  not  practical. 

In  fact,  he  thought  him  rather  capitalist. 
"  You  cannot  really  help  mankind  at  all 

By  wrapping  up  their  miseries  in  mist. 
Or  giving  to  the  crimes  of  capital 

A  charitable  glint  of  amethyst. 
The  hoary  right  of  gold  must  be  demolished; 
And  every  form  of  privilege  abolished. 

LIX 

"  Wrong  will  be  always  wrong,  in  spite  of  talking. 

The  toilers  of  the  world  must  fight  their  way, 
And  pride  and  greed  tyrannically  walking 

On  human  hopes  and  hearts  have  had  their  day. 
No  more  shall  wealth,  a  hideous  spectre  stalking 

Across  the  earth,  devour  its  abject  prey." 
Said  Percival:  "You  're  just  as  vague  as  I 
And  preach  your  vagueness  less  agreeably." 

99 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LX 

So  for  an  hour  they  argued  and  disputed, 
Waters  disputed,  Percival  always  smiled. 

As  usual,  each  believed  his  foe  refuted. 

Meantime  Bill  slumbered,  like  a  tired  child. 

At  last  Aurelia,  seeing  how  untransmuted 
The  prophet's  temper,  how  divinely  mild, 

Concluded  the  adventure  by  entreating 

Him  to  go  with  them  to  an  anarchist  meeting. 

LXI 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  he  answered.  "  By  all  means. 

Capitalist  and  anarchist,  bring  both." 
Waters  demurred  a  little.  u  The  youth  leans 

To  trifling  and  old  capitalistic  sloth." 
So  Waters,  jealous.  But  such  ugly  scenes 

Aurelia  smothered  in  their  earliest  growth 
By  her  intense  and  sweet  enthusiasm, 
Which  would  have  soothed  an  even  harsher  spasm. 

LXII 

They  went,  and  Bill  and  Morgan  too,  of  course, 
The  former  for  want  of  his  fiddle,  driven  to  whistle 

Quaint  airs  and  lively  tunes,  which  spelled  divorce 
Of  his  round  flesh  from  anarchistic  gristle. 

They  were  prepared  for  preaching,  to  enforce 
A  paradise  by  dynamite  and  missile, 

Complete  upheaval  of  a  world  disjointed. 

At  any  rate,  they  were  not  disappointed. 
100 


AURELIA 


LXIII  £  \     ;:-{;:-; 

In  a  large  room,  not  elegantly  lighted, 

A  horde  of  nondescripts  was  oddly  gathered. 
In  most  the  inner  man  might  be  clear-sighted, 

But  certainly  the  outer  was  unlathered. 
A  pale  professor  or  two  had  been  invited, 

But  the  majority  were  unknown,  unfathered, 
Unwholesome,  unattractive,  uninformed, 
Minds  not  to  be  mildly  argued  with,  but  stormed. 

LXIV 

Waters  himself  did  not  attempt  to  speak. 

He  much  preferred  to  watch  and  pull  the  wires. 
But  others  spoke,  one  with  a  scraping  squeak, 

Quite  professorial :  consuming  fires 
He  urged  should  cleanse  mankind,  but  urged  so  meek, 

You  thought  him  piping  pastoral  desires. 
The  audience  listened  in  some  discontent. 
They  wished  a  more  sonorous  instrument. 

LXV 

They  got  it.  An  immense,  cadaverous  Russian, 

Thick-necked,  low-browed,  blue-spectacled,  and  sweating, 

Belabored  life  from  militarism  Prussian 
To  harmless  factories  dividend-begetting. 

The  universe  was  minced  in  his  discussion, 
Upset  beyond  all  possible  upsetting. 

The  hearers  jumped  at  each  new  invocation, 

And  sweated  too  for  very  admiration. 

101 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXVI 

Morgan  was  charmed  and  Bill  in  ecstasy. 

The  prophet  was  distinctly  entertained, 
Though  it  was  natural  he  should  not  be 

Pleased  with  the  mad  ideas  the  Russian  rained. 
And,  when  the  tempest  had  subsided,  he, 

Bent  on  explaining  what  should  be  explained, 
Rose,  though  Aurelia  had  bound  him  to  be  quiet, 
At  least,  not  to  precipitate  a  riot. 


LXVII 

Riots  to  him  were  dew-drops  to  a  duck, 
He  met  them  as  a  ship  meets  summer  seas, 

Aware  that  men  must  out  of  peril  pluck 
The  substance  of  divine  felicities. 

Besides,  he  trusted  that  his  golden  luck 

Would  take  him  to  what  port  he  chose  with 

And  then  his  voice,  following  that  spent  typhoon 

Was  lovely  as  an  autumn  afternoon. 

LXVIII 
He  told  them  he  had  listened  with  distress 

To  doctrines  to  themselves  so  prejudicial, 
Admitted  that  our  present  happiness 

Might  be  regarded  only  as  initial, 
But  urged  they  could  not  make  their  misery  less 

By  blowing  up  an  innocent  official, 
Or  fully  satisfy  an  age-old  grudge 
By  making  mince-meat  of  a  petty  judge. 
102 


AURELIA 

LXIX 

Then  he  enlarged  upon  his  favorite  topic 

Of  lighting  life  by  some  celestial  ray, 
Mellifluously  turned  his  microscopic 

Analysis  upon  their  passions  gray, 
Until  his  fancy,  with  its  sunshine  tropic, 

Grew  almost  bright  enough  to  melt  away 
The  impenetrable,  icy  mass  of  solid 
Inapprehension  from  their  faces  stolid. 

LXX 

Aurelia,  when  he  first  began  his  speech, 

Looked  round  her  with  considerable  anxiety, 

Hardly  expecting  they  would  hear  him  preach 
With  anything  approaching  to  sobriety. 

When  she  perceived  they  did,  she  looked  for  each 
Of  those  who  boasted  any  notoriety. 

To  her  surprise  she  found  they  were  not  there. 

And  instantly  began  to  wonder,  where. 

LXXI 

Her  keen  intelligence  divined  a  trick. 

She  knew  the  mob  must  somehow  have  been  schooled 
To  listen  to  her  prophet's  rhetoric, 

For  even  by  him  that  wrath  could  scarce  be  cooled, 
Those  narrow  brows  be  touched  with  rapture.  Quick 

She  went  herself  to  find  out  who  was  fooled. 
Ere  the  door  closed  behind  her,  the  police 
Came  rushing  in  to  guard  the  public  peace. 
1  103 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXII 

I  hardly  need  explain  that  Waters  planned  it, 
To  damage  Percival,  from  jealous  hate 

(You  see  that  Waters  was  a  lovely  bandit), 
And  that  he  also  planned  to  extricate 

Himself  and  those  he  wished  to  understand  it. 
The  multitude  would  escape  at  any  rate. 

But  Percival,  he  thought,  would  get  a  sentence 

That  might  insure  him  leisure  for  repentance. 

LXXIII 
And  what  a  scene  of  turbulence  there  was ! 

The  officers  with  their  clubs  prepared  for  battle, 
The  anarchists,  stronger  with  their  tongues  than  claws, 

Protesting  in  a  polyglottic  rattle 
The  arch-angelic  innocence  of  their  cause, 

Till  they  were  driven,  like  a  herd  of  cattle, 
And  groveling,  groaning,  swearing,  forced  to  scatter. 
What  happened  to  them  afterwards  is  no  matter. 

LXXIV 

But  Percival,  the  prophet,  was  arrested, 
Since  all  the  other  leaders  had  escaped. 

That  is,  it  happened  as  Waters  had  suggested, 
His  plan  being  most  ingeniously  shaped. 

Morgan  of  course  with  vehemence  protested, 
And  Bill  at  moments  whistled  and  then  gaped. 

Yet  whistling,  gaping,  and  expostulation 

Could  not  avert  their  friend's  incarceration. 
104 


AURELIA 

LXXV 

Percival's  attitude  was  chiefly  curious. 

In  fact,  he  took  the  whole  thing  as  a  lark. 
His  equanimity  made  Morgan  furious. 

"  Young  man,"  he  said,  "  so  gayly  to  embark 
On  law's  perplexed  entanglements  injurious 

Is  quite  too  much  like  leaping  in  the  dark." 
Percival  did  not  heed  him,  but  slept  well, 
For  all  the  inconvenience  of  a  cell. 

LXXVI 

Next  morning  he  was  brought  before  the  judge, 

Duly  and  properly  interrogated. 
Perhaps  he  may  have  guessed  at  Waters's  grudge, 

But  he  determined  it  should  not  be  stated. 
The  officers  urged  his  guilt  and  would  not  budge 

From  their  belief  that  he  was  implicated. 
And  when  the  judge  had  learned  the  prisoner's  name, 
His  attitude  was  very  much  the  same. 

LXXVII 

He  was  a  short,  squat  man,  red-faced  and  shrewd, 
And  not  at  all  accustomed  to  be  kindly. 

"  I  've  heard  of  you,"  he  said.  u  Your  sort  intrude 
On  simple  folk,  who  might  have  toiled  resignedly, 

And  stir  their  hearts  with  speculations  crude, 
Until  they  take  to  bloody  business  blindly. 

Officer,  have  you  evidence  displaying 

The  sort  of  thing  the  prisoner  was  saying  ? " 
105 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXVIII 

The  officers  had  it  and  they  brought  it  out, 

Two  anarchists  (both  were  coached  by  Waters  duly), 

Who  tossed  the  prophet's  character  about 
With  notable  contempt  for  speaking  truly. 

The  judge,  although  he  entertained  a  doubt 
As  to  the  tales  of  persons  so  unruly, 

Grew  every  moment  more  and  more  inclined 

To  see  the  prisoner  jailed  as  well  as  fined. 

LXXIX 

Nor  was  he  moved  by  Morgan's  evidence, 
Who  swore  the  lad  was  nothing  but  a  child, 

A  creature  of  most  perfect  innocence, 

Who  ran  his  head  into  the  noose,  beguiled 

By  his  own  utter  lack  of  common  sense 

And  by  a  woman's  folly.  The  judge  smiled. 

"  Morgan,"  he  said,  "  I  know  your  ways  of  old. 

Go,  write  your  scoop,  before  the  thing  gets  cold." 

LXXX 

"  I  will,  your  honor,  and  give  the  court  good  space." 

Here  the  judge  smiled  once  more.  "  Young  man,"  he  said, 

"LHave  you  a  reasonable  plea  for  grace  ?  " 
And  Percival,  quite  undiscomfited, 

Began  his  answer,  with  angelic  face, 

While  Morgan  groaned,  "  Now  he  will  talk  us  dead. 

In  the  police  court !  The  insensate  boy ! 

A  pretty  place  for  driveling  of  joy !  " 

106 


AURELIA 

LXXXI 

Drivel  of  joy  he  did  there,  just  the  same, 
Told  all  his  hopes  with  such  a  tenderness, 

With  such  a  glowing  and  enchanting  flame, 
Told  all  his  pity  of  the  world's  distress, 

That  public  prejudice  he  overcame. 

Yet  still  the  judge's  tone  was  no  whit  less 

Stern  and  severe.  "  Young  man,"  he  said,  "  your  tongue 

Will  ultimately  bring  you  to  be  hung." 

LXXXII 

But  here  there  came  a  break  in  the  proceeding. 

Aurelia  entered,  and  she  was  superb. 
No  princess,  after  centuries  of  breeding, 

Could  be  more  calculated  to  disturb 
The  imagination  even  of  hearts  unheeding. 

She  kept  her  royal  passions  under  curb ; 
Yet  for  the  shrewd  't  was  easy  to  surmise 
Their  glory  by  the  splendor  of  her  eyes. 

LXXXIII 

The  judge,  like  others,  knew  the  movie  star 
And  wondered  at  her  sudden  apparition. 

He  did  not  wonder  long.  Before  the  bar 
She  stood  with  her  impetuous  petition. 

"  Take  me,"  she  said.  "  How  many  miles  you  are 
From  truth,  in  holding  him  under  suspicion. 

Take  me.  His  innocence  you  should  divine. 

Mine  was  the  guilt.  The  punishment  should  be  mine. 

107 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXXIV 

*'  His  words,  his  hopes,  his  thoughts  are  all  of  light. 

Why,  at  the  moment  when  your  people  seized  him, 
He  was  endeavoring  nobly  to  set  right 

The  madness  of  the  fools  who  had  displeased  him, 
To  shed  clear  day  upon  their  murky  night. 

And  it  was  I  alone  whose  folly  teased  him 
Into  their  midst.  Shut  him  up  in  a  cell  ? 
You  might  as  fitly  mure  a  saint  in  hell. 

LXXXV 

fci  I  am  the  culprit,  I  the  instigator. 

I  would  make  clean  the  world  by  crimes  you  punish. 
But  I  beseech  you,  brand  not  me  a  traitor 

By  overwhelming  one  who  will  astonish 
All  men  in  days  to  come.  He  is  no  prater 

For  judges  in  police  courts  to  admonish. 
By  justice,  truth,  and  innocence,  set  him  free! 
I  have  deserved  ill.  Do  as  you  please  with  me." 

LXXXVI 

After  her  passionate  words  deep  silence  fell. 

The  judge  sat  quiet  a  moment  and  reflected. 
"  Miss  McGoggin,"  he  said.  "  We  know  you  well. 

And  few  are  more  deservedly  respected, 
Especially  when  coming  here  to  tell 

The  truth  of  those  with  whom  you  are  connected. 
There  is  no  charge  at  all  for  you  to  meet. 
Only  —  I  wish  you  had  been  more  discreet." 
108 


AURELIA 

LXXXVII 

He  turned  to  Percival :  "  For  you,  young  man, 

Your  case  takes  on  a  different  appearance. 
I  found  it  rather  black  when  we  began ; 

But  this  last  witness  may  effect  your  clearance. 
I  recommend  in  future  change  of  plan. 

For  certainly  an  obstinate  perseverance 
In  things  like  those  you  have  been  doing  lately 
Will  risk  your  reputation  very  greatly. 

LXXXVIII 

"  You  are  young,  you  are  rich,  you  are  free  to  make  your  way 

In  any  course  of  life  you  may  prefer. 
Your  father's  son,  I  hardly  need  to  say, 

Has  many  a  chance  to  set  the  world  astir. 
I  urge  you  not  to  let  your  fancy  play 

With  dreams  that  will  be  sure  to  ruin  her. 
Yet  idle  fools  find  many  a  pretext 
For  dancing  gayly  to  destruction.  —  Next !  " 

LXXXIX 

The  next  was  brought.  But  you  will  not  believe 

That  Percival  was  ready  to  part  so. 
A  flood  of  eloquence  prepared  to  leave 

His  eager  lips  and  in  its  golden  flow 
Drown  judges,  clerks,  and  officers.  I  grieve 

To  say  that  his  two  friends,  divining  woe, 
Cut  his  prospective  oratory  short 
And  physically  dragged  him  out  of  court. 


BOOK  IV 
CECILIA 


NOW  Percival  for  the  time  had  had  enough 
Of  all  this  varied  flavor  of  Bohemia. 
He  did  not  find  the  human  touch  too  rough, 

Or  have  the  slightest  fear  of  septicaemia 
From  hands,  however  coarse.  But  softer  stuff, 
Though  bordering  even  on  genteel  anaemia, 
In  fine,  the  grace  of  Theodora's  flattery, 
Seemed  lovely  after  anarchistic  battery. 

II 

Therefore  one  royal  day  in  early  June' 
He  found  himself  at  Theodora's  door. 

And  she,  poor  lady,  took  his  latest  lune 

With  perfect  thankfulness.  Nor  asked  for  more 

Than  just  to  hear  his  frolic  voice,  a  tune 
Piped  by  a  fairy  on  a  pleasant  shore, 

And  in  its  light  suggestion  of  vagary 

More  sweet  to  her  than  pipe  of  any  fairy. 
110 


CECILIA 

III 

Did  Theodora  love  the  prophet  then  ? 

She  never  would  herself  have  used  the  word, 
Or  owned  the  love  that  women  feel  for  men. 

In  fact,  she  would  have  called  it  quite  absurd. 
You  do  not  love  a  wandering  sunbeam,  when 

It  comforts  all  your  life,  or  love  a  bird 
Which  in  a  summer  morning  sings  away 
The  plague  and  discontent  of  yesterday. 

IV 

We  do  not  say  we  love  them,  yet  without 
Sunshine  and  birds  life  were  a  paltry  thing. 

And  Theodora's  heart  had  twined  about 
This  casual  sunbeam  threads  entangling 

Her  whole  existence,  till  she  came  to  doubt 
If  death  itself  would  be  more  torturing 

Than  to  forego  forever  his  rare  coming, 

Though  his  departure  left  a  pang  benumbing. 

V 

Therefore,  at  each  arrival  her  first  thought 
Was  to  delay  such  parting  hour  by  hour, 

With  every  quaint  device  her  fancy  taught 
And  exquisite  invention  in  her  power. 

She  knew  his  stay  could  not  be  crudely  bought, 
That,  like  a  butterfly  swinging  on  a  flower, 

With  flaunt  of  silken  wings  beneath  blue  heaven, 

He  would  enjoy  delight  as  it  was  given. 
Ill 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

VI 

So  now  she  seized  upon  a  vague  pretence, 
Which  father  Smith  had  long  ago  suggested 

For  captivating  Percival's  innocence. 
This  was  to  get  the  prophet  interested 

In  a  fair  cousin  whom  kind  Providence 
With  various  attractions  had  invested, 

With  beauty,  youth,  much  money,  and  vivacity, 

Also,  a  not  unamiable  loquacity. 

VII 

Her  name,  Cecilia  Braybrooke,  and  her  home, 
Her  father's,  in  the  summer  by  the  sea. 

If  Percival  could  be  induced  to  roam 

Thither  for  days  or  weeks,  the  end  might  be  — • 

"  No,  it  might  not,"  cried  Theodora.   "  Foam 
Might  sooner  be  made  permanent  than  he." 

Besides,  her  jealous  heart  conceived  no  life 

Worse  than  to  have  Cecilia  for  a  wife. 

VIII 
She  did  not  like  Cecilia,  not  a  bit, 

But  for  the  time  this  might  prevent  his  roving, 
And  little  as  she  would  have  relished  it, 

She  did  not  really  fear  the  prophet's  loving. 
Indeed,  she  thought  the  hardest  thing  to  hit 

Would  be  to  induce  him  to  the  first  removing. 
Whereas,  he  went  at  once,  to  her  surprise, 
Without  regarding  her  apologies. 
112 


CECILIA 

IX 

The  truth  is,  like  the  rest  of  us,  he  enjoyed 

Not  only  what  was  new,  but  what  was  charming. 

And  any  taste  would  have  indeed  been  cloyed 
That  did  not  find  Cecilia's  home  disarming. 

The  very  thought  of  ennui  was  destroyed 

By  outdoor  sports,  from  golf  to  fancy-farming. 

As  for  the  house,  it  was  so  sweet  and  roomy, 

A  pessimist  could  hardly  have  been  gloomy. 

X 

Cecilia's  self  I  cannot  praise  so  much. 

But  yet  she  was  distinctly  appetizing, 
To  see,  to  hear,  to  laugh  with,  and  to  touch. 

Her  eyes  were  brown,  her  cheeks  were  brown,  surprising 
Sometimes  with  depths  of  delicate  color  such 

As  tint  the  clouds  before  the  day's  uprising. 
And  she  could  sparkle,  dance,  caress,  and  flatter. 
Whether  she  had  a  heart  can  scarcely  matter. 

XI 

At  any  rate,  she  welcomed  Percival 

So  heartily  you  almost  thought  she  had. 
As  for  the  heavy  father  Braybrooke,  all 

He  needed  was  Smith's  wealth  to  make  him  glad. 
Therefore  they  crowded  garden,  bower,  and  hall 

With  merriment  luxurious,  if  not  mad, 
And  gathered  in  a  flock  of  neighboring  sinners 
To  revels,  dances,  fetes,  and  sports,  and  dinners. 

113 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XII 

And  Percival  enjoyed  it  to  the  full 

With  all  his  ecstasy  of  casual  mirth. 
Under  the  frocks  and  frills  and  lace  and  tulle 

His  instinct  quickly  picked  the  human  worth. 
Jewels  to  him  were  quite  as  beautiful 

As  dewdrops  gemming  the  enchanted  earth. 
He  turned  from  sunlit  day  to  lamplit  night 
With  inexhaustible  ardor  for  delight. 

XIII 

Just  then  his  temper  hit  Cecilia's  mood 

And  she  was  wildly  anxious  to  ensnare  him ; 

For  she  was  one  of  that  capricious  brood 

Which  seeks  to  win  a  man,  but  not  to  wear  him. 

To-morrow  she  might  turn  to  other  food 

And  with  a  shrug  proclaim  she  could  not  bear  him, 

But  she  was  bent  in  every  cunning  way 

To  bring  him  to  subjection  for  to-day. 

XIV 

With  Percival  her  arts  had  little  weight. 

To  conquer  him  was  something  different  far 
From  mastering  the  usual  train  whose  fate 

Hangs  on  the  follies  of  a  summer  star. 
She  smiled,  she  charmed,  she  tried  to  fascinate 

With  all  the  varied  wiles  of  sexual  war. 
Percival  laughed  and  most  politely  mocked  her, 
With  an  indifference  that  really  shocked  her. 
114 


CECILIA 

XV 
And  ever  as  she  grew  warmer,  he  grew  colder, 

Until  she  almost  thought  she  had  a  heart. 
She  changed  so  that  she  liked  to  have  him  scold  her, 

And  in  her  pain  she  quite  forgot  her  part. 
Yet  Percival  was  merely  a  beholder, 

As  one  enjoys  a  pretty  piece  of  art. 
In  fact,  his  attitude  throughout  his  stay 
Was  that  of  a  spectator  at  a  play. 

XVI 

After  his  winter  of  outrageous  giee, 

With  Morgan's  freak  and  Bill's  fantastic  jest, 

He  relished  their  polite  frivolity, 

Their  common  corpses  exquisitely  dressed, 

Their  lofty  air  of  aristocracy, 

Assuming  that  the  richest  must  be  best. 

He  framed  his  song,  his  laughter,  and  his  mirth 

To  suit  these  choice  inheritors  of  earth. 

XVII 

To  them  of  course  he  was  a  curiosity, 

For  they  had  read  the  papers  and  they  thronged 

To  revel  in  this  trumpeted  atrocity, 

And  hear  their  ways  and  manners  sharply  wronged. 

But  this  subdued  his  natural  verbosity, 

And  made  him  choose  to  show  that  he  belonged 

As  fully  by  his  breeding  to  their  set 

As  any  addled  phantom  they  could  get. 
115 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XVIII 
Yet  underneath,  a  certain  discontent 

Fluttered  the  quiet  of  his  joyous  ease, 
And  now  and  then  he  stirred  their  merriment 

With  some  wild  outburst  of  his  ministries. 
Further,  to  Theodora  oft  he  went 

And  asked  if  she  could  not  detect  disease, 
This  simulacrum  of  delight  infesting. 
"  The  poor,"  he  said,  "  I  find  more  interesting. 

XIX 

"  I  get  amusement  here  and  so  do  they. 

But  they  believe  amusement  calls  for  riches, 
Whereas  a  merry  heart  can  toil  all  day 

And  intermingle  mirth  with  many  stitches. 
I  could  be  happy  in  a  sunnier  way 

Than  they  are,  if  my  life  were  digging  ditches." 
And  Theodora  thought  he  argued  well; 
But  she  would  have  agreed,  if  he  preached  hell. 

XX 

Just  at  this  point  appeared  the  Reverend  Nichols, 
A  clergyman  of  Episcopalian  creed, 

One  of  the  sort  from  whose  whole  being  trickles 
A  panacea  for  each  human  need. 

'T  is  true  that  something  in  their  manner  tickles 
The  unregenerate  of  profaner  breed. 

But  even  the  most  hardened  and  most  earthy 

Admit  that  they  are  estimably  worthy. 
116 


CECILIA 

XXI 

The  Reverend  Nichols's  collar  might  be  high, 
The  Reverend  Nichols's  aim  was  vastly  higher. 

His  clerical  coat  was  fashioned  to  imply 
The  crushing  of  inordinate  desire. 

No  priest  could  ever  be  more  piously 
Perfect  in  every  matter  of  attire. 

Yet  clothes  to  Reverend  James  were  but  a  symbol 

Of  something  nobler  than  the  tinkling  cymbal. 

XXII 

In  the  abstract  he  did  not  favor  marriage. 

Miss  Braybrooke  was  adorably  concrete. 
Therefore  he  would  have  cast  his  perfect  carriage 

In  dusty  desperation  at  her  feet. 
But  the  young  lady  often  would  disparage 

This  incarnation  of  the  Paraclete. 
So,  in  its  varied  mixture  of  devotion, 
James  Nichols's  soul  was  a  tormented  ocean. 

XXIII 
Now  James  had  heard  of  Percival's  arrival 

And  heard  him  charged  with  many  a  strange  achievement, 
As  if  he  were  attempting  a  revival, 

Though  sadly  ignorant  what  to  believe  meant. 
Moreover,  James  in  him  divined  a  rival 

Prognosticating  horrible  bereavement. 
Therefore  he  visited  the  Braybrooke  mansion, 
Prepared  in  full  for  pastoral  expansion. 

117 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXIV 

He  watched  the  prophet  with  some  doubt  at  first. 

Could  this  slim  youth,  who  hardly  knew  the  barber, 
Be  propagating  doctrines  so  accursed 

And  such  abominable  fancies  harbor  ? 
But  finally,  insisting  on  the  worst, 

He  cornered  Percival  in  a  shady  arbor, 
Which  looked  upon  the  splendid,  sunlit  sea, 
And  there  examined  him  industriously. 

XXV 

He  heard  the  youth  desired  to  teach  men  happiness. 

Well,  yes,  the  youth  admitted  that  he  did. 
And  did  he  think  such  desultory  scrappiness 

Of  mirth  and  laughter  could  reveal  things  hid 
From  all  the  ages  ?  With  no  sort  of  snappiness 

Percival  tolerantly  smiled  amid 
The  sunlit  roses  and  inquired  of  James 
His  method  of  checkmating  Fortune's  games. 

XXVI 

There  followed,  as  Percival  probably  expected, 
A  torrent  of  profuse,  not  new,  theology. 

The  prophet  listened  till  he  had  collected 

The  other's  argument.  Then,  without  apology, 

He  broke  the  sermon  short  and  interjected 
Bits  of  his  own  peculiar  sociology, 

Which  made  the  Reverend  Nichols  stare  and  gasp, 

As  if  he  had  sat  down  upon  a  wasp. 
118 


CECILIA 

XXVII 

First  Percival  commended  James's  position, 
And  gently  patronized  his  high  belief. 

Of  course  he  wished  to  better  men's  condition, 
To  cure  disaster  and  desire  and  grief. 

The  only  trouble  with  the  Christian  mission 
Was,  it  apparently  postponed  its  chief 

Comfort,  until  the  dawn  of  heaven's  day. 

"  To  me,"  said  Percival,  "  this  seems  far  away. 

XXVIII 
"  By  all  means  teach  mankind  to  dream  of  heaven, 

But  I  prefer  to  show  them  heaven  here. 
You  lecture  them  on  sins  to  be  forgiven. 

My  method  is  to  make  sins  disappear : 
With  just  a  touch  of  joy's  celestial  leaven 

To  banish  envy,  malice,  doubt,  and  fear. 
And  so  I  state  my  creed,  as  you  requested. 
I  '11  give  you  more  when  this  has  been  digested." 

XXIX 

He  nodded,  smiled,  and,  whistling,  strolled  away. 

The  Reverend  James  was  left,  forlornly  sitting, 
Heedless  of  roses  and  the  cheerful  day, 

His  complicated  meditations  knitting, 
Snarled  in  the  most  uncomfortable  way. 

Nor  did  it  tranquilize  his  fancy's  flirting 
To  see  this  new  disturber  of  existence 
Serenely  join  Cecilia  at  a  distance. 
119 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXX 

"  Fie  !  Percival,  you  Ve  been  tormenting  James." 
"  No,"  Percival  answered,  "  James  tormented  me. 

Why  do  you  thus  intrude  your  long- quenched  flames, 
To  cast  cold  shades  on  our  felicity  ?  " 

"  You  must  not  call  the  Reverend  Nichols  names," 
Cecilia  cried,  with  artificial  glee. 

Her  glee  was  artificial  as  her  face ; 

But  art  had  given  her  fascinating  grace. 

XXXI 

She  played  with  Percival  like  a  frolic  kitten, 

Inventing  jests  not  laughable  but  dainty. 
If  he,  like  Reverend  Nichols,  had  been  smitten, 

She  would  have  given  him  ecstasies  in  plenty. 
But  he  was  fairly  versed  in  the  unwritten 

Ways  of  her  sex,  though  little  over  twenty. 
The  youth  who  was  indifferent  to  Aurelia 
Was  hardly  likely  to  adore  Cecilia. 

XXXII 

She  plied  him,  though,  with  many  a  tender  glance 

And  many  a  subtle  amorous  invention, 
Begged  him  to  tell  her  why  he  wished  to  dance 

After  the  ragged  children  of  dissension. 
Whereat  he  asked  her  if  by  any  chance 

She  M  heard  what  Reverend  James  had  tried  to  mention. 
She  pouted,  but  with  sturdy  will  insisted 
On  probing  him,  however  he  resisted. 

120 


CECILIA 

XXXIII 

"  Oh,  come,"  she  said,  u  you  've  had  enough  of  wandering. 

Come,  settle  down  and  taste  life's  ample  sweet. 
Joy  does  not  come  from  theoretic  pondering, 

But  just  from  plucking  flowers  at  your  feet. 
I  understand  the  interest  of  squandering 

Money  and  time  to  see  the  world  complete. 
But  you  have  strayed.  Now  rest  and  feed  your  fill." 
"  Oh,"  Percival  cried,  "  you  don't  know  Slippery  Bill." 

XXXIV 

She  sighed,  he  laughed.  Then  father  Smith  appeared, 

Come  for  a  day  to  see  his  son  a-wooing; 
At  least  he  hoped  to  find  his  fancy  cleared, 

Forgetting  dangerous  fads  in  turtle  cooing. 
With  him  he  brought  a  friend  who  knew  he  feared 

Fantastic  freaks  would  prove  the  boy's  undoing, 
The  multi-millionaire,  old  Peter  Scrimp, 
Shrewd,  greedy,  human,  swift  for  all  his  limp. 

XXXV 

Now  Peter  had  an  interest  in  souls 

Quite  equal  to  his  interest  in  gain, 
Which  rather  was  a  zeal  for  winning  goals, 

Without  regard  to  what  they  might  contain. 
Dollars  to  him  were  little  more  than  coals, 

To  burn,  to  spurn,  to  turn  to  gold  again. 
Peter  was  keen  for  anything  uncommon, 
Mill-wheels  or  millions,  also  man  or  woman. 

121 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXXVI 

He  and  the  prophet  had  been  friends  before, 

When  Percival's  wild  ideas  were  just  beginning 

Therefore  they  both  were  pleased  to  meet  once  more. 
Ah,  Mr.  Scrimp,"  said  Percival,  "still  sinning 

After  the  old,  old  fashion  I  deplore?  " 

The  millionaire,  who  found  his  manner  winning 

Replied,  "Yes,  Percival,  the  old,  old  game. 

I  think  you'd  better  join  me  in  the  same. 

XXXVII 

"You're  fond  of  spending  money,  come  and  get  it, 
And  grow  familiar  with  the  wicked  world. 

You  ought  to  learn  its  ways,  if  you  'd  upset  it. 
Possibly,  in  the  end,  you  might  be  whirled 

Along  the  stream.  It  charms  you,  if  you  let  it, 
Has  vast  surprises  of  amusement  furled 

Under  the  surface  which  the  vulgar  see. 

Now,  won't  you  change  your  life  and  come  with  me  ? " 

XXXVIII 

"  And  come  with  you  ?  "  cried  Percival,  amazed, 
"Relinquish  light  and  laughter  just  for  cash, 

Turn  from  the  realm  of  joy  to  creatures  dazed 
By  constant  cracking  of  the  industrial  lash, 

Where  the  amusement  is  to  have  barely  grazed 
A  monetary,  monitory  crash  ? 

And  come  with  you  ?  Well,  since  you  raise  the  question, 

I  must  confess  I  'm  pleased  with  the  suggestion." 
122 


CECILIA 

XXXIX 

So  they  three  chatted  in  the  morning  sun.  — 
Meantime  Cecilia,  greatly  discontented, 

Asked  Theodora  what  was  to  be  done. 
Now  Theodora  often  had  repented ; 

And,  rather  than  the  prophet  should  be  won, 
She  liked  to  see  Cecilia  circumvented. 

Therefore  to  all  her  cousin's  lamentation 

She  offered  very  little  consolation. 

XL 

u  I  don't  think  you  can  wean  him  from  his  hope," 
Said  Theodora.  "  Hope !  "  the  other  gibed. 

"He  must  be  weaned.  We  cannot  let  him  grope 
In  the  wild  course  his  fancy  has  described." 

"  Wean  him  !  "  said  Theodora.  "  Smiles  and  soap 
Are  not  the  means  by  which  his  like  are  bribed." 

So,  after  seeking  comfort  from  that  quarter, 

Cecilia's  temper,  never  long,  grew  shorter. 

XLI 

Just  then,  as  love  would  have  it,  Reverend  Jim 
Came  to  her  side  imploring  her  compassion, 

Quite  ready  to  be  nourished  with  a  dim 
And  altogether  ineffectual  ration. 

But  she  was  ready  to  dispose  of  him 

In  a  most  barbarous  and  ghastly  fashion. 

"  Miss  Braybrooke,"  he  began,  with  much  timidity, 

Not  perfectly  divining  her  acidity, 
123 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XLII 

"  Miss  Braybrooke,  I  confess  your  youthful  cousin 

Has  given  my  ideas  quite  a  shock. 
I  tried  to  turn  him  from  the  way  he  was  in, 

But  found  him  adamantine  as  a  rock." 
"My  friend,"  she  cried,  uthat  child  is  worth  a  dozen 

Of  you  and  all  that  ever  wore  your  frock. 
Go  pray,  and  leave  your  betters  free  to  roam." 
The  Reverend  James  went  flabbergasted  home. 

XLIII 
Though  Percival  had  found  his  fancy  teased 

By  the  excellent  Peter's  business  invitation, 
The  plan  was  not  immediately  seized, 

But  left  to  work  in  his  imagination. 
Meantime,  no  doubt,  he  still  continued  pleased 

By  poor  Cecilia's  manifest  admiration. 
Yet  now  and  then  his  memory  would  recur 
To  all  that  group,  so  different  from  her. 

XLIV 
He  thought  of  Morgan's  growling,  grumbling  satire, 

Of  Jarvis,  wealthy,  commonplace,  but  sunny ; 
Of  Jessie,  who  adored  but  did  not  flatter, 

Of  her  amusing  Science  ceremony, 
Of  Bill,  who  mingled  merriment  with  matter, 

As  wax  is  exquisitely  stored  with  honey. 
And  of  Aurelia  he  thought  most  of  all. 
Beside  her  these  late  doings  seemed  so  small. 
124 


CECILIA 

XLV 

He  thought  of  the  superb  defense  she  made 
Of  him  amid  the  tumult  in  the  court. 

He  saw  her  at  the  movie  masquerade. — 

The  masquerade  ?  The  memory  cut  him  short. 

Cecilia  —  could  she  possibly  be  betrayed 
Into  devising  something  of  the  sort  ? 

Then  he  could  gather  his  whole  motley  crew 

And  let  them  loose  among  the  sacred  few. 

XLVI 

Thought  sped  to  action  in  his  fiery  brain. 

He  told  Cecilia.  She  was  charmed  to  find 
Anything  to  induce  him  to  remain 

And  be  at  least  a  little  longer  kind. 
Between  them  the  affair  was  soon  in  train 

And  everybody  had  his  part  assigned. 
Percival  found  his  friends  without  much  labor, 
All  eager  to  respond  to  pipe  and  tabor. 

XLVII 
It  was  a  most  magnificent  occasion, 

Money  and  flowers  and  music  and  some  glee. 
Even  the  Reverend  James,  upon  persuasion, 

Lent  the  affair  a  touch  of  sanctity.  — 
Disguised,  of  course,  that  most  profane  invasion 

Did  not  at  first  offend  propriety. 
Bill  as  a  clown  and  Morgan  as  a  cop 
Could  surely  be  excused  for  acting  shop. 
125 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XLVIII 

Aurelia  was  a  nun.  Cecilia  wore  a 

Most  fascinating  garb  of  street  musician, 
And  charmingly  set  off  Miss  Theodora 

As  a  Venetian  Renaissance  patrician. 
Finally  Percival  had  as  troubadour  a 

Superb  array  befitting  such  condition. 
Dozens  of  figures,  in  confusion  quaint, 
Made  chaos,  from  a  sinner  to  a  saint. 

XLIX 
The  prophet  saw  with  pleasure  apostolic 

That  all  his  friends  were  mingled  with  the  rest, 
Each  one  engaging  in  the  tangled  frolic 

And  tasting  it  with  unutterable  zest. 
The  Reverend  James,  professional  melancholic, 

Was  sermonizing  Nancy  at  his  best. 
And  Percival  thought  with  glee  of  Morgan's  notes, 
As  merry  as  a  sunbeam  full  of  motes. 

L 

What  charmed  his  heart  beyond  all  else  was  Bill, 
By  whom  Cecilia  clearly  was  bewitched. 

She  chattered,  laughed,  and  danced  with  him  her  fill, 
And  listened  while  his  whispering  grace  enriched 

Her  ready  ear,  weaving  with  artless  skill 

His  jests,  and  quips,  and  scraps  of  rhyme  that  twitched 

Her  nerves  with  ecstasy  made  much  more  zealous 

Because  she  hoped  that  Percival  was  jealous. 

126 


CECILIA 

LI 

So  the  triumphant  evening  flew  along. 

Each  minute  set  the  next  one  flying  faster. 
And  every  heart  amid  that  noisy  throng 

Fluttered  and  thrilled  with  titillation  vaster, 
Till  the  invaders  found  the  fit  so  strong, 

The  prophet  feared  they  might  forget  their  master. 
It  had  been  planned  before  that  he  should  ask 
At  midnight  everybody  to  unmask. 

LII 

Thus,  as  the  hour  approached,  they  flocked  together 
Into  the  supper  room  about  the  table, 

A  gorgeous,  glittering  company.  Jewel  and  feather 
Flickered  and  sparkled  in  a  whirl  unstable, 

Until  the  eye  could  scarce  determine  whether 
All  were  a  fleeting  dream ;  and  such  a  Babel 

Assailed  the  ear  as  plagued  the  puzzled  sense 

With  a  complexity  of  impotence. 

LIII 
Percival  drew  his  company  apart, 

Loudly  announced  unmasking,  and  began : 
"  My  friends,  into  this  atmosphere  of  art, 

By  what  I  think  a  pardonable  plan, 
I  Ve  brought  some  genuine  artists.  Do  not  start, 

But  profit  by  my  kindness  while  you  can. 
For,  truth  to  tell,  a  freeborn  spirit  stifles 
In  such  an  endless  whirl  of  frills  and  trifles. 

127 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LIV 

"This,  then,  is  Miss  McGoggin,  whom  you  all 
Know  and  admire  upon  the  movie  screen, 

A  creature  of  magic  mighty  to  enthral 

With  every  touch  the  polished  and  the  mean. 

This  is  her  brother,  Bill,  whom  I  should  call 
As  delicate  a  soul  as  I  have  seen. 

And  this  is  Matthew  Morgan,  a  reporter, 

Who  will  describe  us  in  the  proper  quarter. 

LV 
"Miss  Walker  and  Miss  Gates  are  quite  expert 

At  making  everybody  feel  their  charm. 
I  'm  glad  to  see  the  Reverend  James  alert. 

Miss  Walker  will  not  do  him  any  harm. 
On  Mr.  Jarvis  I  need  not  exert 

Persuasive  power  to  soothe  your  fond  alarm. 
His  father  was  a  millionaire,  though  he 
Estimates  life  at  its  true  quality. 

LVI 

"  And  now,  my  friends,  let 's  make  the  evening  merry, 

Double  distil  the  essence  of  delight. 
You  '11  find  my  guests  here  sympathetic,  very. 

Come,  make  them  feel  that  I  did  not  invite 
Their  gracious  presence  in  a  cemetery. 

Also,  luxuriate  in  the  winning  sight 
Of  my  seductive  person,  while  you  may, 
For  I  shall  vanish  with  the  dawn  of  day." 
128 


CECILIA 

LVII 
There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Then  his  words 

Found  echo  in  their  hearts  well  warmed  with  laughter. 
They  twittered  like  a  flock  of  morning  birds, 

With  glee  resounding  up  to  ridge  and  rafter. 
There  might  have  been  a  few  close-muttered  girds 

Bound  to  develop  ugly  things  hereafter. 
But  in  the  main  they  wished  to  let  the  present 
Be,  as  the  past  had  been,  divinely  pleasant. 

LVIII 

The  women  thought  Aurelia  grand,  and  Bill 
They  all  agreed  was  positively  delightful. 

They  laughed  at  Morgan's  power  of  doing  ill, 

And  hoped  he  would  not  make  his  record  spiteful. 

The  men,  even  Reverend  James,  wooed  Nancy  still, 
And  Jessie's  cup  of  ecstasy  was  quite  full. 

In  short,  their  joy  and  revelry  were  more 

Abundant  even  than  they  had  been  before. 

LIX 

Cecilia  and  Aurelia  had  a  duel. 

They  each  at  once  divined  the  other's  attitude, 
And  jealousy  provided  snapping  fuel 

Under  the  smooth  and  well-directed  platitude. 
You  could  detect  desire  to  be  cruel 

Beneath  the  perfect  smile  of  social  gratitude. 
"  You  've  known  our  friend  some  time  ?  "  Cecilia  said. 
Aurelia  bent  her  grave,  majestic  head. 

129 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
LX 

"  Of  course  you  think  his  theories  are  wrong." 
"  I  do,"  Aurelia  said.  "  He 's  much  too  gentle." 

"Too  gentle!  He  would  sell  life  for  a  song." 
44  He  makes  our  happiness  too  accidental." 

44 1  well  believe  your  influence  is  strong. 
I  only  hope  it  won't  be  detrimental." 

44 1  hope  it  won't,"  Aurelia  said.  44  But  you 

Can  easily  repair  the  harm  I  do." 


LXI 

Here  they  were  parted ;  for  the  first  dim  dawn 
Gave  signal  that  outsiders  must  be  going. 

The  glitter  of  the  dewdrops  on  the  lawn 

Made  pale  the  diamonds'  superbest  glowing. 

Percival  was  as  gay  as  a  young  fawn. 

But  other  cheeks  were  pale  and  temper  growing 

Short  over  things  that  really  little  mattered. 

So,  with  one  final  burst  of  song,  they  scattered. 

LXII 

Cecilia  and  Miss  Theodora  both 

Tried  to  persuade  the  prophet  to  repent. 

44  No,  no,"  he  cried,  4t  you  must  not  counsel  sloth 
To  one  by  nature  always  indolent." 

Alas,  they  saw  that  he  was  far  from  loath 

To  leave  their  charms.  At  any  rate,  he  went. 

His  last  words  gave  a  most  prophetic  summing. 

44  So  live  as  to  be  ready  for  my  coming." 

130 


CECILIA 

LXIII 

Then  Morgan  and  the  others  whirled  him  off 
To  a  resort  as  gay  as  it  was  common. 

Cecilia  would  have  called  it  pigs  in  trough. 
To  Percival  it  seemed  divinely  human. 

Just  now  he  was  not  much  disposed  to  scoff. 

When  they  arrived,  Morgan  produced  a  woman 

Whom  he  declared  the  desolate  survivor 

Of  a  departed  Scotchman  named  Mclvor. 

LXIV 

She  was  a  jolly  widow,  rubicund, 

With  cheery  voice,  eyes  blue  as  China  plates. 
Her  wholesome  bust  inclined  to  the  rotund, 

And  she  comprised  two  anxious  people's  weights. 
But  she  could  always  draw  upon  a  fund 

Of  spirits  wide  as  the  United  States ; 
And  though  her  waist  was  not  politely  measurable, 
Some  persons  found  her  conversation  pleasurable. 

LXV 

She  was  as  common  as  the  air  we  breathe, 
But  common  things  are  frequently  diverting. 

And  though  her  ordinary  speech  would  seethe 
With  vulgar  turns,  she  was  averse  to  hurting, 

Her  ways  with  Morgan  I  should  over- wreathe 
With  adulation  to  describe  as  flirting. 

And  yet,  for  all  his  wit  in  matters  shady, 

He  meditated  marriage  with  this  lady. 
131 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXVI 

For  Cupid  is  a  deity  obscure 

And  aims  at  ends  exceedingly  perplexing. 
But  one  thing  was  beyond  all  question  sure, 

That  Percival's  crew  would  find  it  no  way  vexing 
To  see  that  sum  of  corporal  charms  allure 

Their  portly  scribe  and  cynic  to  annexing 
Such  an  attractive  mass  of  seasoned  honey 
In  all  the  formal  bonds  of  matrimony. 

LXVII 

They  did  not  find  it  vexing,  but  delightful, 
Took  every  possible  means  to  urge  it  on. 

Bill  painted  lonely  age  as  something  frightful, 
And  bachelorhood  as  simply  woe-begone. 

They  teased  the  lovers  all  day,  till  Morgan,  spiteful, 
Declared  that  he  would  leave  and  love  alone. 

Then  they  caressed  him  with  such  petting  carriage, 

He  finally  said  they  might  arrange  the  marriage. 

LXVIII 
But  for  a  moment  leave  the  widow's  charms. 

Aurelia  had  a  little  score  to  settle 
With  her  dear  prophet.   She  faced  him  under  arms, 

Majestical  as  Popocatepetl. 
Does  he  not  know,  she  said,  how  much  he  harms 

The  cause  he  serves  by  touching  brassy  metal 
Such  as  Cecilia  ?  Treachery,  she  called  it  later. 
Percival  smiled.  "  Waters  I  thought  the  traitor." 
132 


CECILIA 

LXIX 

"  Waters,"  she  cried,  "  was  loyal  to  the  cause, 
Would  gladly  lay  his  life  down  to  advance  it." 

"  His  friend's,  I  rather  had  opined  it  was." 
Percival  smiled  again,  then  turned  the  lancet. 

"  His  love  for  you  at  least  deserves  applause, 
And  hate  of  me  would  naturally  enhance  it." 

Aurelia  raged.  But  you  and  I  can  see 

How  love  and  hatred  twine  inextricably. 

LXX 

Meantime  the  others  passed  the  days  in  riot, 
And  made  the  starry  nights  more  riotous  still. 

For  nobody  could  possibly  be  quiet 
When  near  the  indefatigable  Bill. 

They  danced,  they  sang.   Sometimes  they  kept  joy's  diet 
Just  for  themselves.   Sometimes  their  wayward  will 

Charmed  with  its  exquisite  solicitation 

Others  to  join  their  mad  concatenation. 

LXXI 

When  Morgan's  matters  had  attained  a  crisis, 

Percival  planned  a  picnic  by  the  sea, 
Without  regard  to  pulmonary  phthisis. 

The  widow  leaped  at  the  idea  with  glee, 
Although  she  had  a  cautious  word  on  prices. 

The  set  day  came,  it  dawned  delightfully, 
And  everything  was  fitted  to  content  your 
Heart,  if  you  liked  that  kind  of  an  adventure. 

133 


\ 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXII 

They  ate,  they  drank,  they  strolled  about  in  groups 
(Although  the  widow  longed  to  wash  the  dishes), 

Surveyed  the  deep,  diversified  by  sloops, 

Or  gazed  from  rocks  upon  the  darting  fishes. 

No  doubt  they  would  have  even  looped  the  loops, 
If  loops  had  been  there.  But  they  looped  in  wishes. 

And  all  the  time,  making  the  sun  seem  tame, 

Bill's  vagrant  fancy  flickered  like  a  flame. 

LXXIII 
He  sang  weird  songs  of  exquisite  vulgarity, 

Turning  low  laughter  to  a  grace  supreme, 
As  if  it  were  a  dim,  delicious  rarity, 

Bewitching  as  the  fragrance  of  a  dream. 
Then  all  at  once,  out  of  his  Christian  charity, 

He  wooed  the  widow,  till  he  made  it  seem 
As  if  he  wished  to  turn  her  stout  adorer 
Into  a  tame  nonentity  before  her. 

LXXIV 

He  dogged  her  footsteps,  tended  her  desires, 
Praised  her  pronounced  felicity  in  clothing, 

Assured  her  that  he  had  far  fiercer  fires 

Than  Morgan,  underneath  his  airy  frothing. 

"A  journalist's  devotion  soon  expires, 

And  habit  makes  divorce  to  him  seem  nothing. 

But  where  my  love  once  comes,  it  comes  to  stay. 

It  trembles,  but  it  never  fades  away." 
134 


CECILIA 

LXXV 

The  widow  was  bewildered,  yet  enchanted. 

This  golden  day  meant  a  new  life  for  her, 
And  really  gave  her  everything  she  wanted. 

But  soon,  with  no  appreciable  stir, 
Bill  vanished,  and  she  found  her  path  was  haunted 

By  Percival,  with  fresh,  delicious  blur. 
He  too,  in  words  quite  competent  to  move 
Diana's  heart,  insinuated  love : 

LXXVI 

Told  her  that  Morgan's  flesh  was  much  too  gross 
For  one  whose  spirit  far  outsoared  her  body, 

That  she  could  only  love  him  at  a  loss. 
Being  at  best  an  animated  clod,  he, 

So  Percival  declared,  was  merely  dross, 

And  massive  as  he  was,  would  prove  but  shoddy. 

Surely  the  widow  had  good  taste  enough 

To  turn  her  thoughts  to  more  ethereal  stuff. 

LXXVII 

By  this  the  widow  was  no  doubt  completely 

Intoxicated.  But  the  opportunity 
Of  lecturing  this  wandering  prophet  sweetly 

Could  not  be  offered  to  her  with  impunity. 
"Young  man,"  she  said,  and  smoothed  her  wide  skirts  neatly, 

u  I  Ve  heard  about  your  course  in  the  community. 
If  you  'd  please  me,  you  must  be  less  erratic." 
She  clinched  the  comment  with  a  tap  emphatic. 

135 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXVIII 

"I've  listened  to  your  rigmarole  of  joy, 

And  I  confess  I  find  it  reprehensible. 
It  seems  that  you  are  trying  to  annoy 

Poor  common  souls  with  notions  indefensible. 
You  're  rich,  you  're  handsome.  Then  why  not  employ 

Your  time  in  pleasant  ways,  like  me  ?  Be  sensible. 
Eat,  drink,  and  spend  your  money,  and  quit  stalking 
Other  folks'  cares  that  can't  be  cured  by  talking." 

LXXIX 

To  which  the  prophet,  grieved,  responded  slowly : 

u  Mrs.  Mclvor,  with  extreme  regret 
I  recognize  at  last  that  you  are  wholly 

Unfit  to  appreciate  my  mission.  Yet 
I  could  not  part  from  one  so  rolly-polly 

And  be  the  same  as  when  at  first  we  met. 
To  think  that  you  can  leave  a  three-banked  organ 
Just  for  a  wiry  Jew's  harp !  Take  her,  Morgan." 

LXXX 

The  widow  sighed  and  wore  a  puzzled  air, 
Then  strolled  away  in  amorous  proximity 

With  Morgan,  whom  the  prophet  bade  prepare 
To  renovate  her  banished  equanimity. 

"  Matthew,"  she  moaned,  "  I  must  say  I  can't  bear 
A  bubble  like  him.  Now  ain't  he  just  the  limit  ?  He 

May  suit  Aurelia  well  for  an  insane  beau ; 

I  like  roast  mutton  better  than  a  rainbow." 

136 


CECILIA 

LXXXI 

Through  these  delights  they  hurried  on  the  wedding 
With  every  sort  of  joyous  preparation, 

To  give  the  doubtful  path  the  pair  were  treading 
At  least  a  look  of  rosy  jubilation. 

Bill  had  concocted  a  superb  scare-heading 

To  spread  the  news  throughout  the  whole  creation. 

The  prophet,  as  one  who  at  no  trifle  stickles, 

With  some  expense  procured  the  Reverend  Nichols, 

LXXXII 

The  Reverend  came.  The  joyful  day  arrived, 
A  day  most  fortunate  for  such  festivity. 

No  merrier  wedding  ever  was  contrived, 
Since  Aphrodite's  aqueous  nativity. 

No  stout  colossus  e'er  was  apter  wived, 

Nor  pair  more  packed  with  mutual  proclivity; 

While  vestured  James  completely  crowned  the  ball 

By  being  out  of  sympathy  with  it  all. 

LXXXIII 

Then  they  were  whirled  off  in  a  nuptial  storm, 
Pelted  with  shoes  and  oversnowed  with  rice, 

Bill  singing  in  his  most  delightful  form, 
And  everybody  squandering  good  advice, 

While  Morgan  bowed,  his  ample  features  warm 
Red  as  a  bull  dressed  up  for  sacrifice.  — 

So,  heading  these  for  matrimonial  rocks, 

Percival  turned  his  thoughts  to  bonds  and  stocks. 


BOOKV 
PETER  SCRIMP 


AND  now  behold  the  prophet  tied  to  Scrimp 
And  for  the  moment  seated  at  a  desk. 
You  might  suppose  that  not  a  gargoyle  imp 
On  a  cathedral  would  be  more  grotesque. 
But  yet  the  millionaire  forgot  his  limp 

In  watching  one  so  oddly  picturesque, 
And  felt  as  if  the  sun  had  shed  a  ray 
On  his  old  heart,  wrinkled,  forlorn,  and  gray. 

II 

Before  the  thing  was  settled  they  had  talked 
Quite  frankly  and  the  youth  gave  his  opinion, 

That  no  one  might  suppose  that  he  had  walked 
Into  this  perfectly  untried  dominion 

With  his  eyes  shut.  If  hopes  were  to  be  balked, 
When  he  soared  free  upon  his  ample  pinion, 

He  did  not  wish  the  hopers  to  allege 

That  he  had  violated  any  pledge. 
138 


PETER  SCRIMP 

III 

"  Of  course,"  said  Scrimp,  "  when  you  are  tired,  you  quit. 

But  for  a  brief  space  dwell  amidst  our  clutter. 
The  gloom  will  most  agreeably  be  lit 

By  one  fantastic  flash  before  you  flutter. 
Besides,  I  think  that  we  shall  find  you  knit 

More  and  more  closely  to  dull  bread  and  butter, 
Say  what  you  please  of  recreation  sunny, 
There 's  nothing  charms  the  human  mind  like  money." 

IV 

"  Money,"  said  Percival,  "  will  not  charm  me. 

And  if  I  poke  among  your  pigeon-holes, 
It  simply  is  because  I  like  to  see 

Every  variety  of  human  souls. 
The  charm  of  money  is  a  mystery. 

And  what  enormous  evils  it  enrolls : 
Meanness  and  greed  and  underhanded  tricks, 
Which  make  life  seem  the  darker  side  of  Styx." 

V 

"  The  darker  side  of  Styx  and  greed  and  meanness. 

Well,"  was  Scrimp's  thoughtful  comment,  "you  are  right. 
Money  may  be  the  acme  of  uncleanness 

And  filthy  shadow  of  eternal  night. 
But,  though  it  frets  your  outward  form  to  leanness, 

I  find  a  fascination  in  the  fight: 
No  other  snare 's  so  cunningly  benetting, 
Not  in  the  having  it,  but  in  the  getting. 

139 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
VI 

"  Why,  boy,  what  equals  the  intoxication 
Of  slowly  working  out  elaborate  schemes, 

Spun  and  devised  with  far-wrought  divination 
And  haunting  even  your  nocturnal  dreams  ? 

To  watch  their  long  and  patient  realization 
Until  success  inimitable  gleams, 

Is  victory  well  worthy  of  the  strife, 

And,  after  all,  what  else  is  there  in  life  ? " 

VII 

"  What  else  in  life  ?"  the  indignant  prophet  cried. 

"  What  else  but  counting  cash  and  signing  cheques  ? 
And  floating,  if  you  do  float,  on  the  wide 

Sea  of  disaster,  overstrewn  with  wrecks  ? 
Why,  Peter  Scrimp,  you  only  see  one  side 

Of  life  so  broadly,  splendidly  complex. 
If  I  can  bring  a  breath  of  how  to  live, 
My  stay  will  mean  not  only  get  but  give. 

VIII 

"  Oh,  life  is  full  of  fountains  of  delight,  " 
Not  all,  like  yours,  exuding  potions  bitter, 

But  infinitely  sweet  as  well  as  bright 

And  sparkling  in  perpetual  starlike  glitter. 

Why,  you,  even  you,  might  get  you  wings  for  flight 
And  join  the  birds  that  innocently  twitter, 

Lame  body,  lamer  soul  so  cast  behind  you, 

Pecuniary  care  could  never  find  you." 

140 


PETER  SCRIMP 

IX 

And  Peter  laughed.  He  liked  this  sort  of  thing. 

He  would  have  twittered,  could  you  have  taught  him  how. 
"  Alas,"  he  said,  "  I  am  too  old  to  sing, 

A  moping  owl  upon  a  wintry  bough, 
And  you  're  so  young,  so  young.  The  suffering, 

The  bitter  dregs  of  life  you  cannot  know, 
But  miss  the  hidden  horror  of  existence, 
While  twittering  joyous  at  a  rosy  distance. 

X 

"  Wait  till  you  come  to  see  the  heart  of  man, 
With  all  its  crooked  turns  and  ugly  corners, 

With  watchful  eye  more  accurately  scan 

The  equal  pettiness  of  scorned  and  scorners. 

Then  get  such  mad  excitement  as  you  can." 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Percival,  "  when  I  join  the  mourners, 

I  probably  shall  do  as  mourners  do. 

Just  now  I  'm  studying  stocks  and  studying  you." 

XI 

u  Studying  stocks  and  studying  me  ?  "  Grim-faced, 
Scrimp  listened.  Then  he  made  this  proposition. 

"  One  hundred  thousand  dollars  will  be  placed 
At  your  disposal  quite  without  condition. 

You  may  invest  it  in  what  suits  your  taste, 
To  stimulate  your  speculative  ambition. 

I  can  suggest  some  things,  which,  if  you  try, 

Will  bring  a  handsome  profit  by  and  by." 

141 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
XII 

"  A  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  invest," 

Said  Percival,  extremely  nonchalant. 
"  Also  a  financier  to  suggest, 

In  case  I  seek  to  find  my  way  and  can't. 
Well,  Mr.  Scrimp,  I  think  it  will  be  best, 

Since  I  'm  desired  to  get  a  business  slant, 
That,  of  these  dollars,  I  should  put  a  few  in 
Whatever  I  choose,  to  bring  about  my  ruin. 

XIII 

"  I  Ve  been  quite  interested  in  '  Zona  Oil.' " 

"  In  *  Zona  Oil '  ?  "  Scrimp  answered,  with  dismay, 

"  In  that,  my  son,  you  easily  could  spoil 
A  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  a  day. 

Rank,  riotous  speculation !  I  'd  not  soil 
My  fingers  with  it  in  the  smallest  way. 

Just  now  it  soars  as  high  as  a  balloon. 

It  may  be  flat  before  the  next  full  moon. 

XIV 

"If  you  want  oil,  take  '  Eagle,'  take  'Eclipse.' " 
"  Thank  you,"  said  Percival,  "  I  '11  think  it  over. 

There  surely  is  no  better  source  for  tips. 
But,  after  all,  I  fear  you  don't  discover 

The  charm  of  wild  finance.  His  lady's  lips 
Have  not  more  fascination  for  a  lover; 

Nor  for  an  alcoholic,  fume  of  liquor, 

Than  for  a  fool  the  ticking  of  the  ticker. 

142 


PETER  SCRIMP 

XV 

"  And  I  'm  a  fool,  with  glimmerings  of  wit. 

Give  me  my  principal  and  let  me  go." 
Scrimp  drew  the  cheque,  rather  regretting  it. 

Percival  left  him,  with  a  joyous  glow, 
And  sallied  forth  into  the  wide  world,  bit 

With  all  the  frenzy  that  the  gamblers  know. 
He  put  the  whole  sum  into  Zona  stock. 
Smith's  son  so  doing  gave  the  street  a  shock. 

XVI 

The  price  at  once  went  soaring  to  the  sky, 

And  Percival  was  chosen  a  director; 
Not  that  they  rated  his  advice  so  high, 

But  thought  his  name  might  fool  a  chance  inspector 
And  he  himself  was  filled  with  ecstasy 

At  such  an  opening  for  a  soul-dissector. 
He  went  to  all  the  meetings,  gravely  dressed, 
And  listened  to  the  talk  as  if  impressed. 

XVII 

Oh,  what  a  lovely  set  of  men  they  were 

From  Percival's  point  of  view,  some  thin,  some  fat, 
Some  jaunty,  some  severe,  some  set  astir 

By  every  breeze  of  rumor,  some  knocked  flat. 
Just  for  amusement  Percival  tried  to  blur 

Their  hungry  eyes  by  preaching  joy.  They  sat, 
Dull,  heavy,  deaf  to  such  a  merry  saviour. 
Percival  hugely  relished  their  behavior. 

143 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XVIII 

But  let  us  leave  this  atmosphere  so  stifling 
And  turn  to  something  softer,  if  not  sweeter. 

At  first  Cecilia  would  not  one  small  sigh  fling 
After  her  fled  adorer.  He  defeat  her.1 

That  advocate  of  monumental  trifling, 

Who  read  the  wide  world  in  fantastic  metre, 

Whose  sparkling  nonsense  vanished  like  a  stray  brook, 

Should  he  teach  loving  to  Cecilia  Braybrooke  =? 

XIX 

But  with  his  absence  life  grew  thin  and  dull,  "* 

As  if  invaded  by  a  summer  cloud. 
She  picked  the  brightest  blossoms  she  could  cull, 

But  they  had  lost  their  brilliancy.  A  crowd 
Of  merry  faces,  once  so  beautiful, 

Seemed  empty  and  unmeaning.  She  was  proud, 
Cecilia  Braybrooke,  and  it  made  her  smart, 
To  think  this  dream  had  settled  in  her  heart. 

XX 

And  actually  then  she  wandered  forth, 

Under  the  cold  moon,  by  the  sounding  sea, 

And  fixed  her  gaze  upon  the  steadfast  north, 
Revolving  love,  past,  present,  and  to  be. 

Was  it,  she  asked  herself,  ah,  was  it  worth 
While  to  consider  such  felicity  ? 

She  shook  her  pretty  head  and  clenched  her  fist, 

And  then  she  found  she  wished  she  might  be  kissed. 

144 


PETER  SCRIMP 

XXI 

But  not  by  Reverend  James,  oh,  not  by  him, 

Though  pastorally  minded  to  assuage 
Her  amorous  grief,  of  which  he  had  a  dim 

And  misty  comprehension.  All  her  rage 
She  vented  on  the  wretched,  Reverend  Jim, 

Whose  personal  ecstasy  had  reached  that  stage 
Where  he  could  find  no  cure  for  his  devotion 
But  love's  acceptance  or  the  engulfing  ocean. 

XXII 

Then  he  was  quite  astonished  to  discover 

That  she  took  pleasure  in  his  conversation,  — 

Provided  he  would  talk  about  her  lover. 
In  fact,  poor  James  was  getting  education, 

Not  having  been  an  intellectual  rover. 
No  charitable  feeder  of  starvation 

Was  ever  welcomed  more  than  he  when  spreading 

The  interesting  news  of  Morgan's  wedding. 

XXIII 
He  dwelt  upon  details,  Cecilia  hummed, 

Described  the  widow's  garb,  Cecilia  sniffed, 
Mourned  over  vulgar  jests,  Cecilia  drummed 

Her  restless  fingers.  Then,  with  challenge  swift, 
Her  curiosity  she  briefly  summed : 

"  And  what  did  Percival  do  ?  "  He  caught  her  drift, 
And,  with  insinuating  phrase  meticulous, 
Endeavored  to  make  Percival  ridiculous. 

145 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXIV 

It  did  not  seem  quite  suitable  that  one 
So  wealthy  and  so  properly  brought  up 

Should  mix  with  company  he  ought  to  shun 
And  drink  of  such  a  very  common  cup. 

Here  James  regretted  what  he  had  begun. 
Cecilia  called  him  a  complacent  pup, 

And  only  when  his  words  were  well  repented, 

She  sent  him  home  extremely  discontented. 

XXV 

But  she  preferred  a  wiser  ear  than  his 
In  which  to  pour  her  longing  and  desire, 

Her  new  conception  of  love's  mysteries 
And  glimmerings  of  elemental  fire. 

Therefore  she  took  her  curiosities 
To  Theodora,  hoping  to  get  nigher 

Through  her  to  what  just  now  aroused  her  passion 

In  such  a  very  tantalizing  fashion. 

XXVI 

The  interviews  between  them  were  delicious, 
If  I  could  only  give  their  subtle  meaning. 

Each  toward  the  other  was  a  bit  suspicious 

And  each  concealed  it,  personal  bias  screening. 

They  both  believed  the  prophet  was  not  vicious, 
They  both  deplored  his  habit  of  demeaning 

Such  inborn  charm  by  low  association, 

Both  thought  his  company  quite  beneath  his  station. 
146 


PETER  SCRIMP 

XXVII 

And  then  Cecilia  frankly  spoke  her  mind. 

"  If  he  would  put  aside  his  silly  chatter, 
The  idle  dreams  to  which  he 's  so  inclined 

And  wholly  inessential  pitter-patter, 
Would  leave  his  wandering  fantasies  behind 

And  fill  his  life  with  really  sober  matter, 
Would  make  his  worthy  father  due  amends, 
He  might  become  a  credit  to  his  friends." 

XXVIII 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you  at  all,  my  dear," 
Was  Theodora's  answer.  "  I  believe 

He  dwells  in  a  diviner  atmosphere 

Than  you  or  I  or  father  Smith  conceive, 

That  some  day  he  will  help  to  banish  fear 
And  bring  delight  to  many  souls  that  grieve. 

In  fact,  I  will  confess  my  own  ambition 

To  be  a  modest  figure  in  his  mission." 

XXIX 

"  You  ? "  cried  Cecilia,  openly  satirical. 

"  Oh,  cousin  Theodora,  can  it  be 
That  you  could  entertain  a  penchant  lyrical 

For  this  fantastic  shred  of  fluttering  glee  ? 
My  nostrums  for  the  case  are  quite  empirical; 

But  this  would  be  a  perfect  remedy. 
Oh,  cousin  Theodora,  could  we  patch 
An  eminently  suitable  family  match  ?  " 
147 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXX 

u  Cecilia,  you  're  impertinent,"  was  all 

That  cousin  Theodora  would  reply. 
And  then  they  let  the  conversation  fall. 

Cecilia  closed  her  visit  speedily. 
But  afterwards  she  never  could  recall 

The  little  episode  agreeably. 
The  memory  of  it  spurted  hotter  flames 
Into  her  dealings  with  the  Reverend  James. 

XXXI 

And  Theodora  too  was  deeply  stung 
By  her  delightful  visitor's  suggestion. 

She  knew  the  tricks  of  that  enchanting  tongue, 

And  sought  in  general  how  she  could  it  best  shun. 

As  for  the  prophet,  she  thought  she  might  have  flung 
Wisdom  aside  and  wed  him  without  question, 

If  he  had  asked  her.  But  that  such  a  word 

Should  ever  be  uttered,  was  a  dream  absurd. 

XXXII 

Meanwhile  she  longed  to  see  him,  hear  his  speech, 
Learn  all  the  secret  of  his  new  surroundings. 

By  this  time  she  was  sure  that  she  could  teach 
Her  heart  to  stop  unnecessary  boundings. 

Could  it  be  possible  that  Scrimp  could  preach 
The  passion  for  that  sea  beyond  all  soundings? 

And  with  his  sordid  sophistry  could  mar 

The  radiance  of  her  bright,  celestial  star  ? 
148 


PETER  SCRIMP 

XXXIII 

She  asked  him  for  a  Sunday  and  he  came. 

They  sat  upon  the  garden  seat  together. 
She  mentioned  that  she  found  him  on  the  same, 

A  year  ago  in  lovely  autumn  weather.     „ 
He  laughed,  "  How  changed  we  are !  "  She  strove  to  tame 

The  storm  in  memory  by  asking  whether 
He  proved  himself  the  aptest  of  Scrimp's  scholars 
And  still  enjoyed  manipulating  dollars. 

XXXIV 
"  Dear  Miss  Theodora,  it  is  so  amusing. 

I  love  the  guileless  children  of  rapacity, 
Who  designate  their  limitless  abusing 

Of  God's  best  gifts  as  creditable  sagacity. 
Besides,  I  do  enjoy  their  way  of  using 

Me  with  a  most  transparent  unveracity. 
They  love  to  hear  my  father's  millions  clink ; 
But  when  I  turn  my  back,  I  know  they  wink. 

XXXV 

"  I  've  always  been  completely  spoiled  by  petting. 

It  does  me  good  awhile  to  be  despised. 
And  then,  with  all  their  rabid  greed  for  getting, 

Miss  Theodora,  you  would  be  surprised 
To  see  how  love  and  joy  creep  in,  upsetting 

The  plans  they  have  so  cunningly  devised. 
Sometimes  I  almost  wonder  how  I  can  quit 
This  varied  and  delectable  human  banquet." 

149 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXXVI 

Dismay  awoke  in  Theodora's  heart. 

"  Why,  Percival,  you  don't  think  of  remaining  ? 
I  really  could  not  bear  to  have  you  part 

With  all  your  lofty  dreams  without  complaining.'* 
He  laughed.  "  I  'm  sorry  I  gave  you  such  a  start. 

Yet,  after  all,  I  think  I  might  be  gaining 
As  many  followers  from  high  finance 
As  from  the  fields  where  piping  shepherds  dance. 

XXXVII 

"  But  don't  be  troubled.  I  shall  soon  shake  off 
The  bonds  they  've  tied  about  me  and  go  free. 

I  cannot  reconcile  poor  Peter's  cough 

With  any  dream  of  what  delight  should  be. 

Moreover,  he  's  inclined  to  carp  and  scoff, 
Though  I  admit  he 's  rather  fond  of  me. 

Before  long  I  shall  flit  into  the  wide 

Delicious  mysteries  of  the  world  outside. 

XXXVIII 

"  You  know,  I  sometimes  fancy  that  we  two 
Should  find  incomparable  zest  in  roving, 

I  preaching,  you  enjoying  as  you  do, 

And  both  of  us  forever  mad  for  moving. 

We  might  meander  indolently  through 

Both  hemispheres  and  always  be  improving 

The  souls  of  other  people  and  our  own 

With  exquisite  inventions  yet  unknown. 
15O 


PETER  SCRIMP 

XXXIX 

"  How  does  it  strike  you  ? "  She  was  quite  struck  dumb 
And  for  some  seconds  could  not  find  an  answer. 

Before  her  hesitancy  was  overcome, 
His  spirit  leaped,  incorrigible  dancer, 

To  dally  in  its  darting  play  with  some 

Equally  wayward  freak  that  should  entrance  her. 

She  could  not  tell,  when  he  had  taken  flight, 

Whether  he  left  more  grief  or  more  delight. 

XL 

He  could  not  tell,  nor  did  he  greatly  care, 

Whether  the  day  with  her  was  more  adorable, 

Or  that  he  spent  the  following  week  elsewhere, 
In  Bill's  and  Morgan's  company  deplorable. 

Morgan  was  busy  making  people  stare 

With  stories  of  oil.  He  found  the  prophet  more  able 

To  furnish  bunches  of  sensational  writing 

Than  matrimony,  murder,  or  prize-fighting. 

XLI 

And  then  the  widow  was  more  round  than  ever 

And  more  superbly  vulgar  in  jocosity, 
Though,  finding  her  husband  and  Percival  would  not  sever, 

She  viewed  him  with  a  certain  animosity. 
But  Bill  assuaged  her  with  a  running  river 

Of  mirth  fantastic  almost  to  monstrosity. 
Oh,  'twas  a  royal  day  and  it  had  set 
Almost  before  they  realized  they  had  met. 

151 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XLII 
Only  Aurelia  was  not  there.  Her  days 

And  nights,  though  always  full,  were  touched  with  grief, 
When  she  considered  Percival's  new  ways. 

Indeed,  she  felt  it  almost  past  belief 
That  he  could  deign  to  wander  in  the  maze 

And  mire  of  money,  to  become  a  thief ; 
For  so  she  branded  business  in  her  ardor, 
And  would  have  liked  to  brand  it  even  harder. 

XLIII 

She  found  she  turned  to  Waters  more  and  more,  ... 

Though  she  disliked  his  amorous  attention. 
His  doctrines  pleased  her,  when  he  coldly  swore 

Life  must  be  mended  by  some  new  invention, 
Some  panacea  never  known  before, 

Though  what  it  was  he  did  not  clearly  mention. 
Tired  of  Percival's  laughter  in  the  sun, 
She  wanted  something  definite  to  be  done. 

XLIV 
One  evening  Percival  finally  sought  her  out. 

At  once  she  told  him  all  her  bitter  feeling, 
Her  agony,  her  longing,  and  her  doubt, 

More  than  she  meant  her  inmost  heart  revealing. 
"Oh,  Percival,"  she  cried,  "do  turn  about. 

Don't  let  the  frost  of  dollars  grow,  congealing 
Your  high  enthusiasm.  Don't  be  disloyal 
To  all  your  visions,  so  superb  and  royal. 

152 


PETER  SCRIMP 

XLV 

"  Does  not  the  poignant  pity  of  the  world 
Yet  penetrate  your  dream  of  pleasant  things  ? 

Deep  in  your  passionate  spirit  must  be  furled 
The  consciousness  of  human  sufferings. 

Is  not  a  cry  of  endless  sorrow  whirled 
Into  the  glow  of  your  imaginings  ? 

Don't  sell  your  splendid  ecstasy  for  gold, 

Or  let  your  human  heart  be  bought  and  sold. 

XLVI 

Percival  greatly  humored  her  distress. 

"  The  pity  of  the  world  and  human  pain 
Must  sometimes  overwhelm  us,  I  confess, 

And  I  confess,  too,  that  I  daily  gain 
More  notion  of  my  mission's  arduousness. 

But  I  believe  I  shall  not  preach  in  vain. 
Laughter  and  love  and  joy  may  not  quite  cure 
Our  sorrows,  but  they  help  us  to  endure. 

XLVII 
"  And  well  I  know  that  wrath  and  violence 

Can  never  help,  if  love  and  joy  cannot. 
The  calm  delights  of  patient  innocence 

Can  comfort  in  the  most  abandoned  spot. 
And  the  firm  will  can  scatter  an  immense 

Pure  gleam  across  the  dark's  detested  blot. 
We  '11  see,  Aurelia,  which  will  more  beguile 
The  world's  regret,  your  pity  or  my  smile." 
153 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XLVIII 

She  listened  to  him,  charmed,  if  not  persuaded. 

She  could  have  listened  till  the  morning  broke. 
As  to  his  plans,  he  quietly  evaded. 

His  free  thought  to  her  zeal  he  would  not  yoke, 
Or  have  his  frolic  liberty  invaded. 

So,  when  he  left  her,  her  distress  awoke, 
And  she  inclined  once  more  to  Waters's  view : 
The  old  world  must  be  shattered  by  the  new. 

XLIX 
Percival  returned  to  business.  It  was  time. 

That  day  there  came  a  wild  report  which  shook 
The  market,  stocks  went  crashing.  Whose  the  crime 

Nobody  knew,  or  none  was  brought  to  book. 
High  hopes  collapsed  when  just  prepared  to  climb. 

Fortunes  that  yesterday  wore  a  golden  look, 
To-day,  when  once  the  ticker  cut  its  caper, 
Were  found  to  be  no  more  than  printed  paper. 
. 
L 

To  Percival  the  whole  affair  seemed  strange, 

A  mad  confusion  and  chaotic  flurry. 
Men  who,  he  thought,  were  able  to  arrange 

Their  daily  lives  without  unseemly  worry, 
Now  paled  and  shivered  in  the  breath  of  change 

And  rushed  to  ruin  in  a  desperate  hurry. 
Even  he,  who  commonly  could  see  joy  clear, 
Required  a  microscope  to  find  it  here. 
154 


PETER  SCRIMP 

LI 

As  for  poor  "  Zona  Oil,"  it  just  went  out, 

With  one  last  pale  spurt,  like  a  candle  guttering. 

In  that  wide  tumult  and  disordered  rout 

Few  took  the  pains  to  note  its  final  fluttering. 

And  what  would  otherwise  have  raised  a  shout, 
Now  passed  away  in  a  discordant  muttering. 

The  stock  of  "  Zona  Oil "  became  a  thin 

Phantom  among  the  things  that  might  have  been. 

LII 

A  few  of  the  directors,  for  pure  form, 
Gathered  to  pay  respect  to  the  departed. 

They  all  were  men  who  had  foreseen  the  storm 

And  saved  themselves,  although  the  public  smarted. 

But  none  of  them  would  have  prophesied  the  warm 
Dressing  they  got  when  Percival  once  started, 

After  official  note  of  the  bereavement, 

To  tell  them  what  he  thought  of  their  achievement. 

LIII 

He  called  them  rogues  right  out  and  then  accused  them 
Of  crafty,  shameless,  cowardly  duplicity, 

Admitting  all  the  while,  as  he  abused  them, 
An  equal  guilt  in  his  own  eccentricity. 

Even  pleasure  in  their  dull  greed  he  refused  them. 
"  Come,  come  with  me,  if  you  would  know  felicity. 

Come,  leave  your  speculations  and  your  schemes 

And  wander  in  a  world  of  moonlit  dreams." 

155 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LIV 

railed,  tome  glared,  some  yawned,  some  really  listened. 

And  then  he  turned  upon  hk  heel  and  went, 
Told  the  whole  story  to  Scrimp,  whose  blue  eyes  glistened, 

Perhaps  with  tears,  perhaps  with  merriment. 
"My  boy,"  he  said,  "  I  fear  when  you  were  christened 

A  prophet,  nothing  but  a  fool  was  meant." 
"  Peter/'  said  Percival,  u  venerable  Peter, 
A  fool  in  prose  may  be  ft  prophet  in  metre. 

LV 

a  It  happens  every  day.  And  now,  farewell.9* 

44  Farewell  ?  "  said  Peter.  **  You  don't  say,  you  're  going  ?  " 
"Going  I  am.  I  Ve  had  enough  of  helL" 

Scrimp  laughed  **  You  Ve  made  a  very  pretty  showing. 
But  even  a  prophet  could,  I  think,  foretell 

Your  speedily  the  business  world  outgrowing. 
I  have  another  suggestion  that  will  fix 
Your  gifts  much  better,  that  is,  politics.*' 

LVI 

"  Politics!"  answered  Percival.  "  Politics!" 

His  tone  expressive  of  extreme  disgust. 
**  VVTiy,  Mr.  Scrimp,  you  really  seek  to  mix 

My  bright  career  with  ignominious  dust 
HOST  could  I  mingle  with  the  smooth,  prolix 

Creatures  who  coax  a  tramp  and  rob  a  trust  ? 
Indeed,  you  must  seek  something  else  to  bait  your 
Hook,  more  alluring  than  the  legislature." 

156 


PETER  SCRIMP 
LVII 

But  Scrimp  persisted.  "  Waters,  whom  you  know, 
Now  plans  to  run  for  Congress,  sweai-s  that  he 

Will  flaunt  the  blood-red  banner  to  and  fro. 
He  has  a  host  of  followers,  hut  we, 

Your  lather  and  I,  believe  that  you  can  go 
Into  the  ring  and  beat  him  easily. 

You  would  be  glad  to  see  a  man  like  this  tricked 

Out  of  his  triumph  in  your  own  home  district. 

LVII  I 

"  Your  father's  influence  is  very  great, 
And  mine,  if  I  may  say  so,  is  not  small. 

The  public  knows  you  well;  for  you've  of  late 
Been  featured  in  a  fashion  to  appall. 

And  you  can  talk  on  any  point  of  state, 
Or  any  other  point,  to  lx*at  them  all. 

Here  is  the  chance  of  a  lifetime,  better  take  it. 

If  the  career  lacks  laughter,  you  can  make  it." 

LIX 

Percival  passed  a  day  in  meditation. 
Day  really  given  to  solitude  reflective. 

Then  he  deferred  to  Scrimp's  solicitation, 
Admitting  that  his  argument  was  effective. 

He  longed  to  wrestle  with  Waters' s  aggregation, 
Knew  he  could  fling  political  invective, 

And  saw  on  earth  no  better  road  to  reaching 

The  most  magnificent  audience  for  preaching. 

157 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LX 

The  party  took  him  with  a  huge  acclaim. 

And  Waters,  who  to  some  extent  from  spite 
Against  the  Smiths,  into  the  contest  came, 

Heard  of  the  nomination  with  delight, 
Believing  that  he  understood  the  game 

And  could  not  fail  to  win  a  splendid  fight. 
There  was  a  gay  disturbance  and  the  battle 
Made  common  contests  seem  an  infant's  rattle. 

LXI 

At  first  the  prophet  took  the  usual  lines ; 

In  fact,  appeared  most  carefully  conventional, 
Went  on  the  platform  with  august  divines 

And  equaled  them  in  gravity  intentional, 
Showed  how  the  Socialist  theory  combines 

All  possible  dangers.  But  I  need  not  mention  all 
Such  tedious  matters.  He  pleased  the  Lord's  anointed. 
More  frivolous  souls  were  rather  disappointed. 

LXII 

Yet  something  in  his  manner  was  so  winning, 
Even  on  themes  that  men  heard  hammered  daily, 

And  the  bright  aura  of  his  fancied  sinning 

Made  common  politics  dance  and  gleam  so  gayly, 

That  people  finally  found  themselves  beginning 
To  feel  that  Waters' s  cause  was  looking  palely. 

We  '11  leave  it  now,  in  hope  of  its  undoing, 

And  turn  a  moment  to  Cecilia's  wooing. 

158 


PETER  SCRIMP 

LXIII 
For  she  persuaded  Percival  at  last 

To  spend  a  Sunday  with  her  in  the  middle 
Of  his  political  fury,  and  with  vast 

Persistence  she  endeavored  to  unriddle 
The  motives  of  his  future  and  his  past. 

Percival  smiled  at  her  and  played  the  fiddle, 
Would  take  down  any  topic  from  the  shelf 
Of  fancy  to  torment  her  but  himself. 

LXIV 

"  I  am  so  glad  that  you  at  last  are  settled, 

Your  talents  in  the  field  to  which  they  're  fitted." 

"Just  so,"  said  he.  "A  horse,  however  mettled, 
Is  very  little  use  unless  he  's  bitted." 

His  mockery  made  the  lovelorn  damsel  nettled 
And  she  pursued  the  theme  with  forehead  knitted. 

"  I  Ve  understood  that  politics  mean  talk. 

If  so,  you  '11  win  the  contest  at  a  walk. 

LXV 

"  You  '11  talk  to  comely  matrons  in  the  street 
And  well-turned  compliments  will  catch  a  vote. 

You  '11  talk  to  every  workingman  you  meet 

And  cram  your  curious  gospel  down  his  throat. 

I  do  not  see  how  any  one  can  beat 

You  spouting  platitudes  in  a  long  frock-coat." 

" 1  'm  sorry,"  said  he,  "  my  tongue  is  such  a  menace. 

Won't  you  feel  better  for  a  game  of  tennis  ? " 
159 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXVI 

They  played,  and  then  they  strolled  along  the  beach. 

Cecilia  was  full  charged  with  sentiment, 
Or  such  a  substitute  as  she  could  reach. 

She  first  explained  their  cousin's  deep  intent, 
With  phrases  apt  as  jealousy  might  teach. 

u  You  know  how  much  she  loves  you."  Percival  sent 
This  fancy  spinning  with  a  kindly  smile. 
"  Love  me  ?  "  he  said.   "  Oh,  no,  I  'm  not  worth  while." 

LXVI  I 

"  Learn  this,  Cecilia :  nobody  loves  me, 
Or  ever  could.  You  cannot  love  a  dream, 

A  wayward  tangle  of  felicity, 

Where  passions  do  not  dwell,  but  only  gleam. 

1 'm  just  a  tongue,  as  you  so  courteously 
Have  pointed  out,  a  wandering  sunbeam." 

"  Nevertheless,  she  loves  you,  though  the  word 

At  her  age  does  seem  perfectly  absurd." 

LXVIII 

And  then  her  manner  changed.  For  she  could  use, 

When  she  desired,  a  strange  solicitation 
To  charm  men's  hearts.  "  Oh,  Percival,  don't  abuse 

Your  natural  privilege  of  peregrination. 
Take  joy.  Take  love.  Take  pleasure.  Don't  refuse 

The  full  delight  that 's  fitted  to  your  station. 
Don't  be  a  weathercock  flitting  on  a  steeple; 
But  live  the  life  of  ordinary  people." 

160 


PETER  SCRIMP 

LXIX 

Just  then,  as  always  opportunely  apt, 

The  Reverend  James  appeared,  bowing  politely. 
It  was  too  plain  Cecilia  could  have  slapped 

His  yearning  features.  But  the  prophet  brightly 
Took  up  the  ball,  affectionately  tapped 

The  clergyman  on  the  shoulder,  jested  slightly, 
When  offered  an  appropriate  reflection 
As  to  his  certain  prospect  of  election. 

LXX 
"Oh,  yes,"  he  said.  "Election.  I  shall  win. 

But,  James,  your  wooing  is  much  more  essential 
Than  my  first  step  in  this  career  of  sin, 

Though  it  may  have  an  ending  presidential. 
Yes,  woo  her,  James,  ere  long  she  will  begin 

To  lay  aside  her  airs  inconsequential. 
And,  James,  she  is  a  dainty  thing  for  wooing, 
Quite  fitted  for  a  clergyman's  undoing. 

LXXI 

"  For  you,  Cecilia,  you  must  end  with  James. 

And  really  I  don't  think  you  could  do  better. 
He  may  not  overwhelm  his  love  with  flames, 

Most  certainly  he  never  will  forget  her, 
Nor  derogate  from  the  very  highest  aims. 

But,  if  you  '11  pardon  me,  I  '11  write  a  letter." 
He  left  them,  James  beyond  all  measure  harassed, 
And  even  Cecilia  moderately  embarrassed. 
161 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXII 

Now  Theodora's  love  was  more  maternal. 

She  sought  the  prophet's  welfare,  not  her  own, 
Teased  by  a  fret  nocturnal  and  diurnal 

Such  as  her  mellow  life  had  never  known. 
Politics  seemed  to  her  a  gulf  infernal, 

And  into  it  her  joy  must  not  be  thrown. 
Besides,  Aurelia,  since  the  masquerade, 
Disturbed  her  rest  a  trifle,  I  'm  afraid. 

LXXIII 

Then  why  not  visit  Aurelia  ?  So  she  did, 

Found  out  her  dwelling,  called,  sent  in  a  card. 

Aurelia  was  delighted,  or  she  hid 

All  other  feeling.  By  some  chance  ill-starred 

Morgan  and  Bill  were  with  her.  Caught  amid 

Their  most  Gargantuan  pranks,  they  labored  hard 

To  greet  the  visitor  with  due  propriety, 

Yet  Theodora  thought  them  odd  society. 

LXXIV 

Morgan  at  last  tried  Percival  for  diversion. 

"  Miss  Perkins,  an  extraordinary  youth." 
"  Is  he  ?  "  said  she.  "  Oh,  yes.  Such  vast  dispersion 

Of  brains,  and  not  yet  cut  a  wisdom  tooth ! 
You  know,  it 's  an  unusual  excursion 

For  any  journalist  to  tell  the  truth. 
But  I  confess  my  pen  cannot  unravel 
The  simple  facts  as  fast  as  he  can  travel. 
162 


PETER  SCRIMP 

LXXV 

"  He  may  be  anything,  he  may  be  nothing, 

May  live  to  fire  the  world  with  visions  new, — 

Or  turn  out  just  a  bubble  of  foam  and  frothing. 
I  cannot  possibly  tell,  nor  yet  can  you. 

May  prove  a  star  in  sublunary  clothing, 
Or  just  a  speck  of  glass  of  glittering  hue. 

At  any  rate,  for  my  mirth  he  was  sent." 

Miss  Theodora  gasped  and  Morgan  went. 

LXXVI 

Alone  with  Aurelia,  it  was  harder  still 

For  her  to  find  the  words  for  what  she  wanted. 

She  felt  the  glory  of  Aurelia's  will, 

The  throb  of  life  that  in  her  bosom  panted, 

Those  splendid  eyes  that  burned  to  kiss  or  kill, 
And  she  herself  seemed  one  the  gods  had  scanted 

Of  all  that  gives  existence  fiery  worth. 

How  should  she  speak  ?  At  length  her  speech  slipped  forth. 

LXXVII 

u  What  do  you  think  of  our  prophet  ?  "  Aurelia  gazed 
Beyond  her  into  distance,  while  her  cheek 

Flushed  with  desire  and  her  black  eyes  blazed. 

She  clasped  her  eloquent  hands,  like  those  who  seek 

Things  above  mortal  vision,  wandering  dazed 
In  the  vain  search,  and  she  began  to  speak, 

With  utterance  dreamy,  passionate,  and  low, 

Which  made  poor  Theodora  throb  and  glow. 

163 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXVIII 

"  What  do  I  think  ?  I  don't  know  what  to  think. 

I  Ve  watched  him  darting  in  his  course  erratic, 
Flinging  forth  glory  that  makes  dull  eyes  blink 

With  shifts  of  splendor  blindingly  prismatic. 
And  I  confess  to  you,  I  often  shrink 

Before  a  fate  so  strangely  enigmatic. 
What  will  he  do  or  be  ?    Where  will  he  go  ? 
As  Morgan  says,  nor  you  nor  I  can  know. 

LXXIX 

"  Can  we  ? "  Thus  caught,  Miss  Perkins  could  but  stammer. 

Stammer  of  hers  did  not  affect  the  flood 
Aurelia  still  poured  out  with  queenly  glamour. 

"  Miss  Perkins,  when  I  see  his  fresh  youth  bud 
With  zeal  to  quench  the  fierce  and  angry  clamor 

Of  hate,  to  silence  sorrow's  sullen  thud, 
I  feel  as  if  a  god  had  come  again, 
To  change  the  changeless  destiny  of  men. 

LXXX 

"  A  tongue  like  his,  a  heart  like  his,  a  hope 
Like  his  might  guide  the  weary,  restless  stir 

Of  those  who  heed  not  theorist  nor  Pope, 
Might  find  a  track  through  the  chaotic  blur 

Of  wrath  and  greed  that  so  forlornly  grope. 
Who  knows  but  he  might  be  the  minister 

To  make  the  rich  themselves  forget  their  pence  ? 

For  wealth  must  go,  by  love  or  violence. 

164 


PETER  SCRIMP 

LXXXI 

"The  world  will  have  no  longer  rich  and  poor. 

And  who  so  fit  to  foster  this  great  end, 
With  his  superb  touch  to  fling  wide  the  door 

By  which  the  soul  to  heaven  must  ascend  ? 
Yet  now,  alas,  I  see  him  more  and  more 

To  meaner  thoughts  and  baser  creatures  tend. 
Perhaps  it  pleases  you  ?  For  you  were  born 
A  capitalist  ?  "  She  spoke  with  royal  scorn. 

LXXXII 
"  Who  ?  I  ?  "  said  Theodora.  "  I  don't  count. 

A  capitalist  ?  Yes,  I  suppose  I  am. 
No  doubt,  you  find  in  capital  the  fount 

Of  every  cruelty,  deceit,  and  sham. 
But  I  'm  a  woman.  And  to  see  him  mount 

Until  his  spirit  overpours  the  dam 
Of  dead  convention  and  soars  bright  and  free, 
No  matter  on  what  theory,  interests  me. 

LXXXIII 

"  Your  creed  of  rich  and  poor  I  do  not  grasp." 
"  No  wonder,"  said  Aurelia,  "  as  you  're  rich." 

So  they  continued,  with  the  prick  of  asp 
Making  each  other's  tortured  fancy  twitch. 

They  parted  with  affectionate  handclasp, 
Covering  love  or  hate,  I  wonder  which. 

But  Theodora,  whether  in  love  or  hate, 

Feared  such  a  fiery  star  in  Percival's  fate. 
165 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LXXXIV 

The  fiery  star  herself  could  not  endure 

Longer  the  doubt  about  her  hero's  straying. 

His  presence  might  alleviate,  if  not  cure 
Her  fears  that  he  was  carelessly  betraying 

The  cause  she  loved,  alas,  she  was  not  sure 
He  loved  it  too.  She  sent  a  message  saying 

That  he  must  come  and  see  her,  and  he  came. 

She  met  him  with  her  passionate  praise  and  blame. 

LXXXV 

"  Prophet,"  she  cried,  "  you  know  I  'm  disappointed 
To  see  you  in  the  path  you  Ve  lately  trod. 

I  cannot  bear  to  have  the  Lord's  anointed 
Traffic  with  sordid  slaves,  forgetting  God. 

You  talk  like  them,  too,  through  a  world  disjointed 
Apparently  content  to  creep  and  plod, 

Oblivious,  it  would  seem,  of  higher  things, 

You  whom  God  blessed  with  such  superb  white  wings. 

LXXXVI 

"  Oh,  Percival,  can't  you  see  you  're  bought  and  sold  ? 

These  men  have  one  intention,  one  desire, 
To  keep  mankind  enslaved  with  chains  of  gold. 

If  they  can  quench  your  swift,  celestial  fire, 
Can  keep  your  high,  prophetic  ardor  cold 

And  devilishly  unteach  you  to  aspire, 
This  earthly  life  will  ever  after  be 
A  different  thing,  at  any  rate  for  me." 
166 


PETER  SCRIMP 

LXXXVII 

And  Percival,  calm  as  always,  soothed  her  pain, 
Told  her  she  must  not  question  his  career, 

That  his  ideal  purpose  would  remain 

Fixed,  howsoever  changed  it  might  appear. 

Bade  her  not  fret  her  heart  with  torments  vain, 
Nor  let  her  lofty  soul  be  soiled  with  fear. 

She  listened  with  delight,  while  he  was  present : 

His  speech  was  so  incomparably  pleasant. 

LXXXVIII 

But  when  he  left  her,  she  was  teased  with  doubt 
And  listened  equally  to  Waters's  plea : 

"  This  infant  does  not  know  what  he  's  about.     . 
He  teach  a  suffering  world  felicity ! 

Aurelia,  shut  your  heart  and  keep  him  out. 

His  tongue  can  charm  with  summer  minstrelsy ; 

But  his  light  soul  has  nothing  of  the  sober, 

Confirmed  endurance  that  outlasts  October. 

LXXXIX 

"  Watch  this  campaign,  Aurelia.  He  is  fooled 
By  these  enchanters  with  their  bonds  and  stocks, 

Their  jarring  interests  for  a  moment  pooled 
To  drive  our  beaten  vessel  on  the  rocks. 

A  spirit  like  his,  devoted  but  unschooled, 
Will  certainly  not  long  resist  the  shocks, 

Devised  and  engineered  by  careful  cunning 

To  damage  each  opponent  in  the  running. 

167 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XG 

"  Oh,  join  with  us,  Aurelia,  join  with  us. 

I  shall  be  winner  in  this  present  struggle, 
For  all  the  tempting  baits  iniquitous 

That  capitalistic  greed  contrives  to  smuggle. 
And,  if  I  lose  now,  thrice  victorious 

After  the  failure  of  deceit  and  juggle, 
The  dawning  day  must  on  our  banners  shine. 
Aurelia,  leave  his  childish  cause.  Choose  mine." 

XCI 

Between  the  two  Aurelia's  soul  was  torn. 

Waters's  high  cause  she  liked,  but  not  his  passion; 
Believed  his  soul  was  for  achievement  born; 

But  he  made  love  in  execrable  fashion. 
The  prophet's  doings  left  her  heart  forlorn 

And  gave  her  hope  a  very  meager  ration. 
Her  longing  was  to  see  the  world  made  over 
By  him  she  loved,  instead  of  by  her  lover. 

XCII 

Meanwhile  the  gay  campaign  went  on  with  vigor, 

And  even  grew  exceedingly  exciting, 
As  if  it  dealt  with  issues  rather  bigger 

Than  commonly  attend  congressional  fighting. 
No  doubt  in  part  it  owed  its  eminent  rigor 

To  Matthew  Morgan's  happy  style  of  writing, 
Who  every  day  contrived  to  give  the  preacher 
Some  interesting  and  unexpected  feature ! 
168 


PETER  SCRIMP 

XCIII 
'T  is  true  that  Percival  left  vituperation 

To  Waters,  and  himself  continued  firm 
In  his  original  course  of  argumentation, 

Rarely  employing  a  fantastic  term. 
But  something  in  his  face  spelled  fascination, 

And  Morgan  kept  predicting  that  the  worm 
Would  finally  emerge  a  butterfly. 
So  things  grew  livelier  as  the  days  went  by. 

XGIV 
When  the  campaign  at  last  had  reached  its  end, 

Percival's  party  advertised  a  rally, 
And  everybody  crowded  to  attend, 

Until  they  overflowed  in  street  and  alley. 
Men  bore  in  mind  the  things  that  Morgan  penned 

And  hoped  that  now  the  words  and  facts  would  tally, 
Although  the  earlier  talk  was  rather  tame, 
And  some  began  to  wonder  why  they  came. 

XGV 

Then  Percival  arose,  with  innocence 

Enshrined  in  every  feature  of  his  face. 
"Now  it  is  coming,"  Morgan  said,  quite  tense. 

And  every  hearer  straightened  in  his  place. 
The  prophet  at  first  attacked  the  turbulence 

Of  those  opposed  and,  while  he  gave  scant  grace 
To  anarchy  and  the  white  sheep's  garb  it  wore, 
He  added  little  to  what  he  had  said  before. 
169 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XGVI 
But  then  he  shot  into  an  orbit  new 

And  told  his  hearers  they  were  little  better, 
Completely  ridiculed  their  point  of  view 

And  called  them  slaves  of  obsolete  dead  letter. 
Did  they  believe  a  party  drenched  in  dew 

Of  foggy  custom  e'er  could  be  begetter 
Of  thought  or  hope  or  any  splendid  birth 
That  would  perfect  man's  sojourn  on  this  earth  ? 

XCVII 

"  You  fools,"  he  cried,  "  who  think  that  you  can  fight 
The  eager  rush  of  stormy  hearts  like  these 

By  turning  back  the  clock  and  shutting  tight 
The  human  soul  in  your  dim  fallacies  ? 

Black-frocked,  ink-thoughted,  you  expect  to  blight 
The  glorious  growth  of  life's  felicities ! 

I  spurn  your  foes'  insane  and  violent  ends, 

But  when  I  look  at  you,  they  seem  like  friends. 

XGVIII 
"  The  truth  is,  government  is  but  a  dream, 

And  you  Ve  evolved  a  monstrous  mass  of  clutter, 
Through  which  man's  choked  wit  shoots  a  strangled  gleam 

And  vague,  portentous  murmurs  darkly  mutter. 
Your  ballots,  parties,  platforms,  creeds,  all  seem 

Excuses  for  interminable  flutter 
Of  talk,  talk,  talk,  in  limitless  ado. 
May  God  forgive  me,  for  I  'm  talking  too. 

170 


PETER  SCRIMP 

XCIX 
"  Oh,  yes,  the  weary  world  goes  on  and  will, 

And  government  will  govern  as  it  can, 
And  tongues  will  wag  interminably  still, 

Tossing  wild  words  for  misery  of  man. 
And  hate,  revenge,  and  wrath  will  seek  to  kill, 

And  greed  and  selfishness  like  yours  will  plan 
To  leave  the  poor  and  pitiful  to  grope 
And  rob  the  world  forever  of  its  hope. 

G 

"  Until  one  day  mankind  shall  slowly  learn 
That  only  from  within  comes  renovation, 

That  each  soul  to  itself  alone  must  turn, 
If  it  would  know  the  secret  of  salvation, 

That  fire  of  love  must  more  intensely  burn, 
Fed  high  with  hope  and  joy  in  quick  creation. 

Then  government  and  governors  will  cease, 

And  the  vexed  world  begin  to  find  its  peace. 

CI 

"  Meanwhile  I  am  a  candidate,  oh,  yes. 

But  I  would  have  you  all  to  understand, 
I  cling  to  no  man's  banner  and  caress 

No  party's  covertly  rewarding  hand. 
Where  my  soul  leads,  I  follow,  and  repress 

No  heart  that  calls  me  in  this  whole  broad  land. 
The  sweet,  untrammeled  liberty  I  use 
Shall  still  be  mine.  —  Elect  me,  if  you  choose." 

171 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

CII 

He  ceased.  A  tumult  rose.  He  disappeared, 
Some  thought  that  he  had  forfeited  election, 

Some  hissed  and  groaned  and  others  loudly  cheered. 
Some  called  it  inexcusable  defection. 

Old  Peter  Scrimp  laughed  long  at  those  who  feared, 
And  scouted  any  prospect  of  rejection. 

Old  Scrimp  was  right.  His  elfin  favorite  won, 

And  laughed  as  he  defeated  would  have  done. 


BOOK  VI 
PERCIVAL 

I 

SCRIMP  had  a  country  place  quite  near  his  mills, 
And  there  the  prophet  and  his  friends  were  staying, 
Cecilia,  Theodora,  James,  whose  ills 

His  lady  seemed  more  mercifully  weighing,  v 
She  being  one  whose  love  rejection  kills, 

Although  herself  inclined  to  wanton  playing 
With  any  lover,  whether  Bacchanalian 
Or  piously  disposed  Episcopalian. 

II 

It  was  a  charming  villa,  on  a  height, 

With  a  delicious  beachy  pond  below, 
And  Percival  found  such  rural  sojourn  quite 

Refreshing  after  all  that  civil  woe. 
The  factory  hands,  indeed,  were  full  of  fight 

And  threatened  trouble,  if  they  once  let  go ; 
But  Scrimp  concealed  this  danger  from  his  visitor, 
Who,  for  the  time,  was  guest  and  not  inquisitor. 
173 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

III 

Scrimp  and  Miss  Perkins  did  not  much  resemble 
Each  other ;  but  they  had  one  common  ground ; 

For  every  day  they  saw  their  thoughts  assemble 
In  growing,  curious  obsession  round 

This  bright,  fantastic  visionary  tremble 

Of  quivering  laughter  with  joy's  halo  crowned. 

And  oft  they  questioned,  argued,  and  debated 

To  what  end  such  a  creature  was  created. 

IV 

"You'll  find,"  said  Scrimp,  "at  last  he'll  lay  aside 

This  garment  of  exaggerated  glee, 
And  you  will  watch  his  splendid  gift  applied 

To  common  uses  of  mortality. 
Meanwhile,  thank  God,  he  lives  to  furnish  wide 

Amusement  to  a  withered  thing  like  me. 
I  get  new  fuel  for  life's  waning  taper, 
Each  time  he  cuts  another  frolic  caper." 

V 

"  Amusement ! "  sighed  Miss'Perkins.  "  Ah,  no,  surely 
You  can't  imagine  such  transcendent  gift 

Created  for  old  folks'  amusement  purely. 
He  must  be  given  a  mission  to  uplift 

The  grosser  clay  that  now  snores  on  securely, 
To  break  the  darkness  with  some  heavenly  rift. 

Don't  you  believe  it  ?  "  Peter  was  a  skeptic, 

Impervious  to  all  spiritual  antiseptic. 
174 


PERCIVAL 

VI 

The  object  of  their  argument,  however, 
Did  not  discuss  the  end  of  his  existence, 

Nor  try  to  stir  the  world  with  hard  thought's  lever, 
But  cast  care  to  an  undisturbing  distance, 

Letting  his  lovers  tangle  and  dissever 

Conjectural  threads  without  the  least  resistance, 

Content  himself  to  watch  all  shimmering  mirth 

Across  the  lovely,  variegated  earth. 

VII 

And  certainly  his  vision  found  such  shimmer, 

Where  other  mirthless  eyes  would  least  expect  it. 

For  instance,  who  'd  have  thought  to  see  it  glimmer 
In  Reverend  James,  or  with  his  frock  connect  it  ? 

Yet  Percival  joyed  to  see  his  passion  simmer 
And  every  day  was  eager  to  detect  it. 

So  when  the  Reverend  finally  won  his  lady, 

He  found  his  friend's  congratulations  ready. 

VIII 

44  Yes,  Percival,  at  last  she  has  consented," 

Said  James,  and  coyly  claimed  his  blushing  bride. 

"  James,  don't  let  Percival  think  you  are  demented, 
But  try  to  keep  your  ecstasies  inside." 

44 1  can't,"  said  James,  prodigiously  contented. 
44  Each  portal  of  my  soul  is  open  wide, 

And  everywhere  some  rapturous  thought  flies  out, 

Proclaiming  my  good  fortune  all  about." 
175 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

IX 
"  Why,  James,"  the  prophet  answered,  "  you  're  poetic. 

But  can't  you  tell  me  how  the  thing  occurred  ? 
You  know  I  am  immensely  sympathetic." 

u  I  can't,"  said  James.  u  My  memory  is  blurred. 
One  day  she  called  me  an  effete  ascetic 

And  slapped  my  face.  The  next  she  spoke  the  word 
That  made  my  cup  of  every  rapture  rare  full." 
"And  I  '11  unspeak  it,  James,  if  you  're  not  careful." 

X 
"Oh,  no,  she  won't!  "  cried  Percival,  delighted. 

"  I  do  rejoice  to  see  long  love  rewarded. 
Cecilia,  you  could  not  be  so  benighted 

As  to  neglect  poor  James's  devotion  hoarded; 
And  I  affirm,  his  love  will  ne'er  be  blighted 

By  creeping  age  or  by  vexations  sordid, 
The  warmth  of  his  attachment  quite  as  solar 
As  its  enduring  constancy  is  polar. 

XI 

"  I  see  you  now  in  vision  beatific, 

As  long  as  Destiny  twirls  its  patient  spindle, 

Voyaging  on  in  nuptial  seas  pacific, 

Where  Hymen's  flames  perpetually  rekindle, 

About  your  hearth  a  progeny  prolific, 

To  supplement  your  forces  when  they  dwindle, 

As  ample  brood  as  cheers  the  proletariat, 

And  nourished  on  a  better  commissariat." 
176 


PERCIVAL 

XII 

Thus  everybody  lived  in  cheerful  humor. 

If  only  such  felicity  could  last, 
And  fortune  were  not  cunning  to  exhume  her 

Keenest  annoyance  from  a  pleasant  past ! 
But  shortly  mirth  was  withered  by  a  rumor 

That  trouble  in  the  factory  grew  fast 
And  any  day  might  see  the  peaceful  village 
Wholly  upset  with  riot,  tumult,  pillage. 

XIII 

Scrimp,  to  be  sure,  made  light  of  the  suggestion. 

"The  men  will  talk,"  he  said.  "I  let  them  talk, 
For  conversation  always  helps  digestion. 

If  they  like  walking  too,  I  '11  let  them  walk. 
But  as  for  entertaining  any  question 

Of  having  them  run  my  business,  I  will  chalk 
A  rigid  line  that  shall  my  limits  show 
And  not  one  inch  beyond  it  will  I  go." 

XIV 

Then  Morgan  came  to  study  the  details, 
And  he  at  once  told  Percival  the  facts. 

"  The  men  hate  Scrimp,"  he  said.  u  He  wholly  fails 
To  win  their  confidence  by  words  or  acts. 

They  are  a  lawless  set  and  when  one  rails, 
His  neighbor  neither  disputes  nor  counteracts. 

They  Ve  worked  themselves  into  a  state  so  furious 

That  the  result  is  bound  to  be  injurious. 

177 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XV 

"Then,  Waters  is  behind  it  all,  I  know. 

He  is  not  here,  but  he  is  on  the  way; 
Aurelia,  too,  as  I  have  heard,  although 

Whether  to  help  or  hinder,  I  can't  say. 
Waters  hates  Scrimp  and  you,  and  he  will  blow 

The  coals  into  a  blaze  without  delay. 
He  will  keep  dark,  but  by  his  introduction 
There  '11  be  the  very  devil  of  a  ruction. 

XVI 

"  The  long  and  short  is,  prophet,  I  advise  you 
To  go  elsewhere  at  once,  or  you  may  see 

Things  that  will  hurt  as  much  as  they  surprise  you. 
You  know  I  'm  not  the  sort  of  man  to  be 

Much  frightened  by  unwarranted  surmise.  You 
Must  suit  yourself,  however,  as  commonly." 

Percival  tapped  him  on  his  massive  shoulder 

And  laughing  said,  u  Ah,  Benedict,  you  grow  older." 

XVII 
In  due  course  Waters  came,  Aurelia  too, 

As  Morgan  said,  an  ominous  conjunction. 
With  Waters's  coming  the  strike  vote  went  through, 

As  if  he  had  performed  a  natural  function. 
Scrimp  did  precisely  what  he  meant  to  do, 

Stopped  every  wheel  without  the  least  compunction. 
"  I  'm  old,  I  'm  rich,  I  can  afford  to  wait, 
Let  them  sit  down  and  starve  outside  the  gate." 
178 


PERCIVAL 
XVIII 


Aurelia,  with  neither  coyness  nor  debate, 

We*  up  to  Scrhnp's  at  once  to  see her  friend. 

Before  he  came,  Scrimp  (""ftfe**^  «but  lend 

"  You  wished  to  see  me  ?         JN  o, 
Your  ear  a  minute.  I  will  try  to  state 

What  hours  of  eager  speech  could  hardty  end. 
And  then,  with  words  to  make  the  sun  turn  dun, 
sL  told  her  enemy  what  she  thought  of  him. 

XIX 
His  cruel,  bitter,  hungry  greed  she  battered 

Then  further  blamed  him  for  the  prophet  s  fall, 
Such  hopes  and  dreams  so  insolently  shattered. 

As  to  the  strike,  she  painted  to  appall, 
Those  tattered  souls  half  hid  in  bodies  tattered. 

"Don"  think,"  she  cried,  "they  care  for  money  at  all. 
For  yL  you  V  lashed  them  till  the  blood  would  start, 
And  now  they  '11  plant  a  weapon  in  your  heart. 


XX 


Scrimp  laughed,  a  laugh  harsh,  arrogant,  provoking. 

«  What  Sibyl  or  what  harridan  have  we  here, 
Who  tries  to  jar  with  her  discordant  croaking 

A  perfectly  unsympathetic  ear  ? 
Go  tell  your  people  that  this  sort  of  joking 

Will  do  them  not  the  slightest  good,  my  dear. 
I'll  not  be  changed  by  threat  or  by  appeal. 
So  saying,  Peter  turned  upon  his  heel. 

179 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XV 

"Then,  Waters  is  behind  it  all,  I  know. 

He  is  not  here,  but  he  is  on  the  way; 
Aurelia,  too,  as  I  have  heard,  although 

Whether  to  help  or  hinder,  I  can't  say. 
Waters  hates  Scrimp  and  you,  and  he  will  blow 

The  coals  into  a  blaze  without  delay. 
He  will  keep  dark,  but  by  his  introduction 
There  '11  be  the  very  devil  of  a  ruction. 

XVI 

"The  long  and  short  is,  prophet,  I  advise  you 
To  go  elsewhere  at  once,  or  you  may  see 

Things  that  will  hurt  as  much  as  they  surprise  you. 
You  know  I  'm  not  the  sort  of  man  to  be 

Much  frightened  by  unwarranted  surmise.  You 
Must  suit  yourself,  however,  as  commonly." 

Percival  tapped  him  on  his  massive  shoulder 

And  laughing  said,  u  Ah,  Benedict,  you  grow  older." 

XVII 
In  due  course  Waters  came,  Aurelia  too, 

As  Morgan  said,  an  ominous  conjunction. 
With  Waters's  coming  the  strike  vote  went  through, 

As  if  he  had  performed  a  natural  function. 
Scrimp  did  precisely  what  he  meant  to  do, 

Stopped  every  wheel  without  the  least  compunction. 
"  I  'm  old,  I  'm  rich,  I  can  afford  to  wait, 
Let  them  sit  down  and  starve  outside  the  gate." 
178 


PERCIVAL 

XVIII 

Aurelia,  with  neither  coyness  nor  debate, 

Went  up  to  Scrimp's  at  once  to  see  her  friend. 

Before  he  came,  Scrimp  passed,  by  evil  fate. 

"You  wished  to  see  me? "  "No,"  she  said,  "but  lend 

Your  ear  a  minute.  I  will  try  to  state 

What  hours  of  eager  speech  could  hardly  end." 

And  then,  with  words  to  make  the  sun  turn  dim, 

She  told  her  enemy  what  she  thought  of  him. 

XIX 

His  cruel,  bitter,  hungry  greed  she  battered, 

Then  further  blamed  him  for  the  prophet's  fall, 

Such  hopes  and  dreams  so  insolently  shattered. 
As  to  the  strike,  she  painted  to  appall, 

Those  tattered  souls  half  hid  in  bodies  tattered. 

"  Don't  think,"  she  cried,  "  they  care  for  money  at  all. 

For  years  you  Ve  lashed  them  till  the  blood  would  start, 

And  now  they  '11  plant  a  weapon  in  your  heart." 

XX 

Scrimp  laughed,  a  laugh  harsh,  arrogant,  provoking. 

"  What  Sibyl  or  what  harridan  have  we  here, 
Who  tries  to  jar  with  her  discordant  croaking 

A  perfectly  unsympathetic  ear  ? 
Go  tell  your  people  that  this  sort  of  joking 

Will  do  them  not  the  slightest  good,  my  dear. 
I  '11  not  be  changed  by  threat  or  by  appeal.5' 
So  saying,  Peter  turned  upon  his  heel. 

179 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

X 

Then  Percival  came.  Aurelia  boiled  at  first. 

Scrimp's  bitter  scorn  had  made  her  nearly  frantic. 
It  seemed  as  if  her  swelling  heart  would  burst 

In  wild  commotion,  like  the  tossed  Atlantic. 
"  I  should  have  liked  it  better,  if  he  'd  cursed. 

He  treats  men's  madness  like  an  infant's  antic. 
Oh,  Percival,  come  with  me.  You  're  out  of  place 
Among  these  children  of  a  blasted  race. 

XXII 

"  Their  day  is  over,  ours  is  yet  to  come. 

You  're  one  whom  heaven  to  hasten  ours  has  sent. 
Why  then  remain  and  amplify  the  sum 

Of  their  inevitable  punishment  ? 
Let  not  their  wooing  vanity  benumb 

In  you  the  spark  of  heavenly  discontent." 
He  smiled :  "  Aurelia,  they  're  not  wholly  evil. 
You  overrate  God  and  underrate  the  devil." 

XXIII 

She  still  persisted  in  her  passionate  prayer. 

But  when  his  gentle  firmness  would  not  alter, 
At  least  she  bade  him  for  his  safety  care, 

And  bade  with  eagerness  that  made  her  falter. 
"You  can't  conceive,"  she  urged,  "what  these  men  dare. 

They  '11  use  the  knife,  the  gun,  the  torch,  the  halter. 
Percival,  I  implore  you  hasten  hence, 
Before  the  mob  breaks  out  in  violence." 

180 


PERCIVAL 

XXIV 

He  answered  with  words  infinitely  tender. 

u  Aurelia,  you  exaggerate,  I  know  ; 
Your  visions  seem  so  real,  both  of  splendor 

And  equally  unutterable  woe. 
Merely  upon  the  strength  of  fears  so  slender 

You  cannot  dream  that  I  should  turn  and  go, 
Much  more,  that  I  should  flee  in  terror  blind 
And  leave  my  unregarded  friends  behind." 

XXV 

She  left  him,  when  she  found  her  plea  was  vain ; 

But  sought  Miss  Perkins's  aid,  ere  she  departed, 
And  to  her  sympathetic  ear  made  plain 

The  serious  danger  of  the  thing  once  started ; 
If  Percival  decided  to  remain, 

Frankly  confessed  she  should  be  broken-hearted. 
"You  love  him."  Her  gesture  swept  aside  denial. 
"  You  love  him.  I  implore  you,  make  a  trial. 

XXVI 

u  Go  hence  at  once,  and  take  the  boy  along ; 

For  this  will  prove  to  be  no  place  for  preaching ; 
And  not  a  human  soul  can  tell  how  strong 

Their  furious  rage  will  be,  or  how  far-reaching." 
Miss  Perkins  thought  her  visitor  was  wrong ; 

But  still  her  heart  was  moved  by  such  beseeching. 
She  knew  no  suppliant  words  of  hers  could  ever 
Change  Percival's  mood,  yet  promised  to  endeavor. 
181 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXVII 

And  Percival,  though  he  never  thought  of  fear, 
Was  by  Aurelia's  warning  much  affected, 

Went  straight  to  Peter  Scrimp  and  made  it  clear 
He  grieved  to  have  the  men's  demands  rejected. 

"  Old  friend,"  he  urged,  "  your  grudge  will  disappear 
When  you  have  fully  reasoned  and  reflected. 

You  Ve  known  me  now  six  months,  and  you  can't  be 

Impervious  still  to  sweet  humanity. 

XXVIII 

"  What  can  your  dollars  buy  more  worth  your  having 
Than  these  poor  people's  love,  esteem,  and  gratitude  ? 

Cannot  so  many  years  of  patient  saving 
Allow  at  last  a  little  kindly  latitude  ? 

I  beg  you,  hear  their  prayers  and  stop  their  raving." 
The  prophet  did  not  yet  divine  Scrimp's  attitude. 

He  might  as  well  have  tried  to  charm  a  glint 

Of  human  kindness  from  a  piece  of  flint. 

XXIX 

"  I  like  you,  boy,"  he  said,  u  and  your  facility 

Has  given  grace  to  solitary  hours 
And  dulled  the  gathering  tedium  of  senility. 

But  you  're  attempting  tasks  beyond  the  powers 
Of  even  your  exceptional  agility. 

A  life  of  dealing  with  these  people  sours 
Spirits  by  natural  bent  disposed  to  quiet. 
And  mine  have  never  thriven  on  that  diet. 

182 


PERCIVAL 

XXX 

"  Their  gratitude  ?  The  thing  does  not  exist. 

Esteem  ?  My  son,  they  only  bully  and  cringe. 
And  energetic  action  of  the  fist 

Establishes  a  law  they  '11  not  infringe. 
As  for  their  threats,  just  show  them  you  resist, 

And  they'll  not  break  a  pane  or  jar  a  hinge. 
Come,  please  me  with  your  customary  chatter. 
No,  not  another  word  about  the  matter." 

XXXI 

So  everything  went  criss-cross  and  askew. 

The  prophet  failed  with  Scrimp.  No  more  success 
Attended  Theodora's  plea.  "  Can  you," 

Percival  said,  "  Miss  Theodora,  stress  ? 
My  running  away  from  here,  because  a  few 

Mad,  miserable,  passionate  things  express 
Their  long  despair  with  incoherent  phrases  ? 
Why  are  souls  lost  in  such  perplexing  mazes  ? " 

XXXII 

"But,  child,"  she  said,  "the  quarrel  is  not  yours. 

If  Scrimp  would  hear  you,  all  might  be  adjusted. 
Then  why  not  leave  inhospitable  doors, 

Where  laughter  is  not  known,  nor  kindness  trusted  ? 
The  men  are  set  on  clearing  off  old  scores, 

On  blasting  age-long  habits,  deep  encrusted. 
Leave  them  and  come  with  me."  He  turned  away, 
Less  joyous  than  he  had  been  for  many  a  day. 
183 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 
XXXIII 

He  was  determined  now  to  meet  the  men, 
To  talk  to  them  and  ascertain  their  aim. 

And,  as  the  thing  fell  out,  he  heard  just  then 
Of  an  appropriate  opening  for  the  same. 

The  strikers  were  to  gather  in  their  den 
And  put  some  resolutions  into  frame. 

Percival  said  at  once,  "  I  will  be  there." 

For  danger  he  had  neither  thought  nor  care. 

XXXIV 

He  entered  unobserved  the  smoky  hall, 

Mounted  the  platform,  ere  the  meeting  knew, 

And  took  a  prominent  place  before  them  all, 
With  Waters,  Aurelia,  and  the  chosen  few. 

Then  some  one  in  the  crowd  began  to  call 
The  attention  of  the  haggard,  hostile  crew ; 

And  suddenly  arose  an  angry  murmur, 

At  first  low,  vague,  then  more  widespread  and  firmer. 

XXXV 

Aurelia  said  to  Waters :  u  He  is  here, 

And  you  are  bound  to  welcome  and  protect  him. 

Moreover,  he  shall  speak :  so  make  it  clear, 
The  men  must  listen,  even  if  they  reject  him." 

Waters  frowned  darkly;  but,  when  she  showed  no  fear, 
He  said,  "  Oh,  well,  they  '11  easily  detect  him.'' 

He  cried  for  order.  "  Men,  here  's  Mr.  Smith. 

Listen  a  moment,  he  will  speak  forthwith." 
184 


PERCIVAL 

XXXVI 

And  Percival  began,  with  graceful  ease, 

As  quietly  as  if  he  were  addressing 
A  parlor  full  of  elegant  nobodies. 

At  first  he  gave  his  whole  heart  to  expressing 
The  deepest  sorrow  for  their  miseries 

And  dwelt  with  tender  sympathy  caressing 
Upon  their  long,  fierce  struggle  and  vexation, 
Their  hideous  daily  battle  with  starvation. 

XXXVII 

Yet  still  he  urged,  not  patience,  but  restraint, 
Said  violence  could  never  do  them  good, 

Encouraged  every  reasonable  complaint 

And  pledged  that  he  would  further  it  as  he  could, 

Then  he  went  on  with  eager  brush  to  paint 
The  ill  effects  of  wrath  misunderstood, 

And  showed  how  passion,  once  beyond  control, 

Was  madly  sure  to  overshoot  its  goal. 

XXXVIII 
At  last,  in  subtle,  tender,  loving  phrase, 

He  spoke  of  hope  and  rapture  yet  to  come, 
The  promise  of  the  all-enfolding  days, 

Joy  and  delight  in  unimagined  sum, 
Love  that  should  walk  in  newly-trodden  ways, 

And  bid  hate,  greed,  and  cruelty  be  dumb. 
He  spoke  with  charm  to  melt  a  stony  will, 
A  will  of  iron,  but  these  were  harder  still. 
185 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XXXIX 

For  most  were  foreigners,  and  so,  obtuse 

To  arguments  they  could  not  understand, 
And  others'  hearts  were  cold  for  want  of  use 

And  grown  as  callous  as  the  toiling  hand. 
Yet  many,  even  though  withered  by  abuse, 

Felt  the  sweet  touch  of  that  divine  command, 
Till  Waters,  fearing  damage  to  his  cause, 
Withdrew  the  speaker  at  the  earliest  pause. 

XL 

He  took  him  by  the  arm  and  forced  him  out, 
With  act  distinctly  vigorous,  if  not  rough. 

"  Go  home,"  he  said.  "  I  see  your  heart  is  stout ; 
But  don't  come  here  again.  We  've  heard  enough. 

And  don't  suppose  you  can  prevent  the  rout 
Of  all  your  kind  by  namby-pamby  stuff. 

I  '11  also  add  a  purely  personal  warning : 

Leave,  or  you  '11  find  you  won't  wake  up  some  morning." 

XLI 

"Waters!"  cried  Percival.  "Oh,  what  silly  chatter, 

To  think  that  where  you  can't  persuade,  you  '11  frighten. 

I  tell  you  now,  you  most  forlornly  flatter 

Yourself,  when  you  forbid  my  hopes  to  brighten. 

And  I  believe,  for  all  your  hollow  patter, 
That  I  have  somewhat  managed  to  enlighten 

Those  poor,  poor  souls  whom  you  have  trained  for  ridding 

Your  selfish  path  of  obstacles  at  your  bidding. 

186 


PERCIVAL 

XLII 
"  You  threaten  me  with  death.  Poor,  blatant  fool ! 

Know  I  am  one  whom  death  can  never  touch. 
The  sad,  the  dull,  the  anxious  feel  his  rule, 

Because  they  cower  and  shrink  from  him  so  much. 
But  we  who  live  in  love's  eternal  school, 

One  bright,  enduring  Now,  are  creatures  such 
As  make  not  life  a  thing  of  transient  breath, 
Children  of  joy,  for  whom  there  is  no  death." 

XLIII 

He  vanished  swiftly  as  a  fleeting  thought, 
•     And  Waters  shook  his  fist  and  nursed  his  rage. 
The  meeting  ended  in  storm.  Aurelia  caught 

The  leader  after  it.  Sad  with  dark  presage, 
She  labored  with  him  earnestly  and  sought 

To  bring  his  shifty  passion  to  engage 
That  Percival  should  escape  all  bodily  harm. 
At  last  she  cried,  in  anger  and  alarm  : 

XLIV 
"  If  he  is  touched,  I  '11  never  see  you  more, 

Forget  your  cause  and  plague  you  all  I  can ; 
For  I  shall  know  the  banner  that  you  bore 

Meant  other  things  than  benefit  to  man, 
Meant  jealousy  long  fed  by  brooding  sore, 

Old  grudges  fostered  with  malicious  plan. 
Oh,  keep  your  struggle  for  legitimate  ends, 
And  seek  to  hurt  your  enemies,  not  your  friends." 

187 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

XLV 

"  Friends !  "  came  the  angry  echo,  harsh  and  thick, 
"  No  enemy  we  have  is  worse  than  he. 

His  silly,  endless  dreaming  makes  me  sick 
And  feeding  fools  with  false  felicity. 

I  tell  you  now,  the  climax  will  come  quick, 
Involving  in  its  fierce  catastrophe 

The  pretty  pet  for  whom  you  make  your  prayer." 

They  parted,  he  in  wrath,  she  in  despair. 

XLVI 

Meantime  the  prophet  found  another  scene. 

Bill,  Jarvis,  Nancy,  Jessie  had  arrived. 
The  truth  was,  that  their  coming  was  a  screen, 

Which  Morgan  had  ingeniously  contrived, 
Fearing,  unless  some  chance  should  intervene, 

That  Percival  might  prove  to  be  short-lived. 
He  telephoned  the  tribe  to  make  diversion 
By  whirling  off  their  friend  for  an  excursion. 

XLVII 
They  urged  it ;  but  he  quietly  declined. 

u  My  place  is  here,"  he  said,  u  till  I  discover 
What  vengeance  these  poor  creatures  have  in  mind. 

I  must  remain  until  the  thing  is  over." 
They  pleaded.  He  was  firm,  to  danger  blind. 

Though  Jess  showed  all  the  ardor  of  a  lover, 
He  smiled.  "  If  life  outside  is  filled  with  queer, 
Odd  turns,  remember  joy  is  with  us  here." 
188 


PERCIVAL 

XLVIII 
"  Let  's  have  one  other  night  like  those  of  old, 

Regardless  of  the  accidents  of  morning." 
They  acquiesced.  At  first  he  found  them  cold, 

Shadowed  by  some  obscurely  ominous  warning. 
But  gradually  he  managed  to  enfold 

Their  halting  spirits  in  his,  and  lightly  scorning 
Care's  fetters,  he  persuaded  them  to  be 
Once  more  like  him,  felicitous  and  free. 

XLIX 
He  told  them  stories,  sang  them  magic  songs 

Of  lovers  old  and  chivalrous  romances, 
Till  every  thought  of  haunting  modern  wrongs 

Was  trodden  out  by  vague  and  fairy  chances. 
He  gave  them  all  the  witchery  that  belongs 

To  laughter's  bright  dominion  and  to  fancy's. 
And  he  was  ably  seconded  by  Bill, 
Who  made  each  quaint  suggestion  quainter  still. 

L 

I  will  not  say  some  touch  of  recollection 

Did  not  at  moments  cloud  the  prophet's  brow, 

Not  danger  to  himself,  but  dark  reflection 
On  all  those  angry  eyes  and  foreheads  low. 

But  he  erased  such  hints  of  introspection, 

And  tossed  the  light  laugh  once  more  to  and  fro, 

Till  even  Morgan,  journalistic-eyed, 

Believed  that  he  had  daffed  the  world  aside. 
189 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LI 

And  when  the  evening  reached  its  fullest  glory, 
Jarvis  first  whispered  Nancy  and  then  spoke : 

"  My  friends,  I  '11  crown  these  pleasures  transitory 
By  others  more  enduring."  So  he  broke 

The  news  of  their  late  marriage.  At  the  story 
Percival's  highest  ecstasy  awoke, 

And  he  and  Bill  made  all  their  mirth  redouble, 

Until  the  telephone  burst  the  shimmering  bubble. 

LII 

Percival  answered  and  became  quite  grave. 

"  The  mob  is  up,"  he  said,  "  and  bodes  disaster. 
They  're  marching  on  to  Scrimp's  in  one  great  wave, 

And,  so  they  tell  me,  moving  ever  faster. 
I  must  go  out  at  once  and  try  to  save 

My  friends,  for,  if  the  rioters  overmaster 
The  few  police,  the  damage  may  be  serious." 
Morgan  protested.  With  a  touch  imperious 

LIII 

Percival  hushed  him.  "  My  words  may  avail 

At  least  to  patch  up  temporary  quiet." 
"  Your  words! "  said  Morgan  scornfully.  "  They'll  not  quail. 

Unless  a  strong  hand  feeds  them  harsher  diet." 
Jessie  grasped  Percival's  arm,  and,  turning  pale, 

"  Oh,  Morgan,  won't  the  officers  stop  the  riot  ?  " 
But  Morgan  could  not  find  enough  vocabulary 
To  utter  his  contempt  for  the  constabulary. 

190 


PERCIVAL 

LIV 

They  would  have  pleaded  still.  But  Percival  went. 

And  Jarvis  went,  and  Bill  and  Morgan  too. 
The  girls  suggested  going  with  them,  bent 

To  follow  such  a  wild  adventure  through. 
But  Morgan  roughly  blighted  their  intent. 

44  That  crowd,"  he  said,  "  is  not  the  place  for  you." 
They  stayed,  and  Nancy  hid  her  own  distress 
By  comforting  the  agonies  of  Jess. 

LV 

So,  hurrying  on,  the  four  first  got  a  glimpse 
Of  all  that  furious  rout  in  angry  clamor, 

Seeming  a  tumult  of  distorted  imps, 

With  mock  and  mow  and  jibe  and  shriek  and  stammer. 

They  met  them  closer  just  half  way  to  Scrimp's. 
The  torches  shed  a  vague  and  lurid  glamour. 

And  never  yet  upon  a  movie  screen 

Was  thrown  a  more  exciting,  fearful  scene. 

LVI 

Percival  stepped  right  straight  into  the  crowd, 

Though  Morgan  and  Jarvis  begged  him  to  keep  clear. 

His  glorious  figure  soared  among  those  bowed, 

Bent,  cowering,  cringing  shoulders.  All  could  hear 

The  words  in  which  he  bade  them,  trumpet- loud, 
Not  threaten  him,  for  he  'd  forgotten  fear, 

But  save  themselves  before  the  law  awoke. 

And  then  an  automatic  sharply  spoke. 

191 


A  PROPHET  OF  JOY 

LVII 

And  Percival  fell.  Who  fired  it  none  knew. 

Perhaps  it  was  not  difficult  to  guess. 
Just  then  no  soul  in  that  disordered  crew 

Stopped  to  bewail  one  prophet's  pettiness. 
The  mob  swept  onward,  urged  until  it  flew. 

Percival's  friends  were  dragged  in  close  duress. 
And  when  the  hurrying  multitude  was  gone, 
The  stars  looked  down  upon  the  dead  alone. 

LVIII 

Alone,  except  for  one  forgotten  form. 

Aurelia  wept  and  struggled  to  revive  him, 
Unable  to  believe  that  sudden  storm 

Of  all  life's  ample  glory  could  deprive  him, 
Poured  kisses  on  his  cheeks  and  lips  yet  warm, 

Poured  curses  on  a  God  who  could  contrive  him, 
For  the  whole  weary  world's  salvation  meant, 
And  blast  him  with  one  hideous  accident. 

LIX 

Then  she  grew  calmer,  and  with  reasoned  speech 
She  let  the  tumult  of  her  thought  unroll. 

"  Oh,  blessed  fate,"  she  said,  "  he  did  not  reach 
One  step  more  toward  the  customary  goal, 

Did  not  have  sordid,  withering  age  to  teach 

The  common  thoughts  that  move  the  common  soul, 

But  went  out  free,  beyond  the  dull,  oppressing 

Trammels  of  care,  his  perfect  self  possessing. 
192 


PERCIVAL 

LX 

"  Yet  what  he  taught  shall  not  be  lost ;  for  I 
Will  take  the  burden  up,  though  far  unfit. 

His  death  has  shown  me  violence  must  die, 
Its  hideous,  tortured  strength  at  last  unknit. 

The  sullen  hordes  of  greed  and  wrath  must  fly 
And  joy's  pure  torch  shall  at  his  heart  be  lit, 

So  love  will  make  him  live  on  earth  again, 

Star  of  immortal  hope  to  mortal  men." 


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